


Chapter 2: A Second Chance.  Act 3: Redemption

by LazyShadow



Series: Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 2: A Second Chance [3]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Humans, Madness, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, Twisted story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyShadow/pseuds/LazyShadow
Summary: You think that's it? Twenty years of enduring madness, depression, despair; new body, new life...And you think you can just kill your original self and die? He-he-he...Naive. Surface awaits you - YOUR second chance to live. Oh and I can assure you, this won’t be an easy ride. A brand new world with old roots, your new past and consequences to accept, old wounds and enemies, secrets to discover, inner demons to tame.Will you give up and die or take your chance and try to start your life over despite all the bullshit it can throw at you? After all….Death is a chose that was R̷̕e̛͠jected!
Series: Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 2: A Second Chance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1331408
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Part 1: We’re more ghosts than people

_ Humanity is not a race. It's an idea, a harness. _

_ Got the hint? _

***Two weeks of minor events and parties later***

A distant noise woke me up. And I’ve been staring at the ceiling for a good minute or two; rubbing Erin’s back, don’t want to get up. Ah, that morning dizziness, laziness and feel of comforting warmth followed by quiet, sleepy moan of a girl lying on you, with her tits rubbing against your chest, her slow and steady breath warming your neck. She’s a sleep and still provoking me for another round of entertainment. Almost feels like a dream…As if҉ ̵that ̶is som̕e̸t̕h̷i̷n͞g̶ ͡i͝mp͏o͡ssible̴ ąn͡d abs͞o̸lutel̛y ̢not͏ ҉ea͜sily ̢achieva͡b҉le͢ ҉du͏e ͞to̴ ͢t͝he̷ i͢n͞kl̸ing̢s cul̶t͜u҉r͞e ̶an͢d d̵e͞m͠o̧g̵raphic͠ p͝rob͢l͝ems ca͡u͡s҉e̷d̕ by t̵he͢ e̡m̡pire c̴o̕l͘lapse̷ a҉nd a ͏fu͝c͘k͝inģ wa̕r! 

I’d asked some questions right now, but that sound is persist. Sounds like shower and it comes from the corridor. We’re...didn’t have any guests, right? N̷ope͝ ̕a͞n͝d I real̸l͡y̷ h̛o͠p͏e i҉ts not ҉H̕E̷R. Y-you mean Lena? S͜he’̨s̷ ͝g͠onna b̶e ̷pi͠ssed...Right, she’s supposed to come back from the jail today. With a sigh I change into the octo form to carefully crawl out from Erin’s ‘imprisonment’ without waking her up. Once on the edge of the bed I morph back in humanoid form and gently kiss her tentacle. Now to find my pants and investigate the sound.

The moment I step into the corridor I see the proof of Asshole’s guess: Helena’s jacket and shoes are now present. And I still hear someone taking a shower behind the closed door where that shower is located, elimination idea of hallucination. My ears go down and I cover my open mouth, whispering

_ “Ебись оно все в три прогиба. Qu̴een͡ ̕of ͡the bitch̶es ̸is͠ bac͠k̢!” _

I took a moment to calm down. What should I say to her? ‘H̷e̛l̶lơ ͢t͝h̢e̛rȩ!’ Sigh, I doubt your charm will ever work. Ąnd ̨wh̶at will̨ ͢you s͝ugg͡e̵st̛? ̴B͡u̸y ͟sq͡ui͜d f̷i̷n̶ ͝l͏e̛mon ͜as̴ a ͝gift a҉n̛d͏ ̸fe͠tc̵h som̷e͟ ̵f̵ļowe͟r̸s a̢s̶ ̵a ̢lit͡tl҉ę ̛b̢onus ͏to n̨umb̕ ̷her u͡r̡g̢e͝ ҉to ͟tre̕at ͝U̡S ̷li͘k҉e ̨s̨h͘i͡t? I shrug. Who does not take risks, does not drink. We meet her, we talk or fight. Agreed? Ugh.̶.̕F̢i̕n͜e. But first, I need a drink.

Thirst slowly drives me to the kitchen. Every step with my bare feet makes me stop and think. What will I say, when that good looking too angry to understand girl emerge from the shower? Buying squid fin lemon a.k.a the lemon looking like a yellow turkey does sounds like a good idea. It is considered gift among inklings after all. Too bad I can’t bend time or summon money out of nowhere like a typical Skyrim player, h̛e-̷he.

Suddenly to me door on my right opens with wall of steam and smell of perfume crawling out as if this is a portal to hell. With a dramatic delay familiar face with two long green tentacles slowly emerge washing up her eyes. And then our eyes meet each other with a second of awkward silence, confusion. We both gasped and took a step back from the doorway. My back hit the wall, I feel my sight narrowing down from sense of danger and awkwardness, rapidly inspecting her slightly wet and beautiful nearly naked body. It makes me blush yet I feel paralyzed. I look at death and it beckons me with cookies.

Helena instantly cover her naked tits with tentacles and blushed for a moment, but then she stares at me with the same old cold facial expression. We keep looking at each other, without saying a word for a minute...Two? I dunno. I’m scared to move a muscle cus she has all the reasons in the world to bash my head against the wall and pain this whole apartment blue, till my cracked skull runs out of blood. She slowly step forward and put her hand on my shoulder with a sigh. My eyes closely observe her hand with sweet popping on my head. Tension is rising with every moment, her hand is getting a bit shaky. F͘i͟nall̢y̡ or suddenly she break silence by shaking her head.

_ “So, Richard Streletskiy. Enjoyed fucking my friend in my bed?”  _

W̷hoa̕-wh͡oa! Hol͏d ̕t͠he ̧fu̢cking ͘s͜e҉a hor̢ses!͠ She ̛neve͠r sou͡nd̸e̛d͜ ҉so ̴c̵as͝u̡a͡l!! What the fuck..? She addressed me by the NAME? No-no-no, that can’t be right. She’d rather eat garbage than say my name. Are you sure I’m not dreaming or hallucinating?! I expected some serious situation, improvising my way out of her red rage, but she’s acting weird, ask me a completely unexpected question and that put me on nerves even more!

_ “I uh...Wha?”  _ I vaguely ask, feeling completely lost. She rolls her eyes and release my shoulder, only to instantly slap my face. 

_ “ Is that's real enough for the two of you?” _ Oh, that sobering pain and her usual cold tone. I rob the cheek and get up, mumbling:

_ “Ooff...Yep. That's as real as it gets.” _ I mumble and get up, shaking my head.

_ “You haven't answered my question.” _

I reply with unwillingness both in my body language and tone.

_ “Oh...Will you be more pissed if I say ‘a lot’ because out of two friends I got she understands me more? All you do is treating me like a sentient trash and beat me!” _

I nearly yell at her from frustrating anticipation of more punches coming up. And she gone silent. With each passing second the I feel the urge to yell at her like a drunk pissed off asshole getting the best of me. 

_ “Look, I know you hate - mmh! Hmh!?” _ My head goes back and eyes lock down on her tentacle shutting my mouth up at the cost of concealment of one of her tits. She shook her head and reply with oddly casual tone.

_ “Shove your pointless excuses down up your ass and cook something to eat...Please. We have a lot to talk about.” _

Ģreen Te͠rrǫr̛, ̛w͟ith ͞a͝ll͢ ̡fe͠a̶r͡ ̧and̴ ̢re̴spect. T͘h͝e o̶nl̛y t̸hi̕n̛g͞ ͞that̸ ͘goes I͡N͟ m͡y̢ a̴s̴s͜ ͝i̴s̢ ̴y͏o͟ưr p̨a̧t̕heti͟c ͏dr͢eam͘s͢!̧ I nod and she release me, going back in the shower, closing the door behind her. ‘A lot to talk about’. Hm, I think that's true for both of us. This abuse relations has to end one way or another and she acts weird. Fffffuck it. Just gonna make a dinner and wait for her.

We both dressed up and meet at the kitchen table. As much as I enjoy the company and proper meals without any canned poison or couple of burats in the menu; I don’t feel comfortable sitting with someone like her. Judging by her crossed arms and constantly moving eyes doing their best to avoid eye contact, I can say the same about her. But...I dunno, something feels different about her. Where’s your determination, squid? Why do you bite your lip with a fang of yours? There’s not even a trace of the merciless, cold hearted killing machine I̴̧̧̛͠ know. 

She sighed and rob her face with both hands, scratching her skin as if she tears down a mask from herself.. Then she placed them on the table and looked at me. 

_ “...I'm sorry." _

I raise my eyebrow with highly concentrated doubt and even shake my head in disbelief.

_ “What...” _

_ “T͢he͡ f͠uck?” _

There is no way in hell she would ever-!

_ “I’m trying to APOLOGISE here!” _

Rraagh! She scared me with that sudden slamm on the table with both hands with her meaning body rising from the table and cold screech mixing with regret in her. I swallow and silently gaze at her, shooked to say something in reply as she sits back and calm down. She bend her head down and cover it with hands.

_ “...Sorry for everything.” _

What's that sudden change of heart without calling card? I’m merely a useless electrical engineer/an ͞el̸i̸t̨e ͞t̕wa͏t, but she seems to be in a troubled state. I remain silent, seems like she has more to say.

_ “It's hard, I know. Feeling exhausted from constant misunderstanding, abuse and rejection, sense of being trapped in the alien world that you can’t understand, act like nothing happened and wake up in cold sweat from damned past that just won’t let it go...Every. Single. Day. Isn't it tiring?” _

And as suddenly and unexpected as that apology came, her cold tone with her eyes observing me like a mindless cameras. She looked distant, cold as she should be with emotions absent from her face, as if I’m staring at one of HIS dogs again...Don’t trigger me like that, lady. I reply slowly, carefully picking my words with pauses.

_ “Why are you telling me this? Had a sudden change of heart after r̡eal͏isi͘n̢g h͘ow p̷a̸the͢ti͞c ҉and d̢ep̛res̕sed̸ y҉ou̴r ̢l̸if̢e͏ ̢is͞?̶” _

My face twisted in Asshole’s frustration, but she didn’t reply. No, she looks even more self isolating and cold. Am I right and she tries to open herself to me? D̸o͘u̢b̶t͜ ̛it.͘ H̡i͟g͝h̷ļy͜. Wait, what if she...I bend a bit, curious and confused yet curious.

_ “..Ah, those questions for me, right?” _

She gave a single nod. Huh, okey. That's certainly helped a lot. No̷t̢. I negatively shake my head and bend my back backward, distancing myself from Helena with a long inhale. I got so much to tell...

_ “Oh boy, the truth then….Yes. Yes, I AM tired and exhausted. *short pause* Zapfishes stole my work, my knowledge is wasted by evolution. You kept me locked up without explaining much, beat me and treated me like a second grade garbage. And I was afraid, confused and delusional. Time is ticking, I’m still unemployed and useless, parasitizing on your friend like litch with no home and money of my own...wondering what the hell am I and how should proceed with a chance to live like a man.” _

Another short pause to catch a breath and go down with the flood of negative thoughts.

_ “Don’t pity me, Agent Three. I have absolutely no excuse to be sad or let some negative thoughts ruin me. That's the life: everyone sees me as an odd fella that somehow managed to avoid being thrown into the madhouse with the killing joke.“Not your kind of people” as we used to say. No one would even pay attention to the sudden fluency in two additional languages no one even knew, understanding and knowledge of tech beyond your imagination or why he’s calling himself with a completely different name. Probably just a part of schizophrenia and definitely not a result of brainwashing the FUCK out of me, just to make octoling think like a man! Hah.. But don’t worry-” _

I exhaled with a frustration and salt voice leaving my lungs as my lips shook with my tone. Now̢ ţha͏t͟’s̨ a̛ ͘way ͡to ͘mak͠e͝ ̶so͝m̡e͝oņe͢ ̷f̶e͞el͢ l̛ike ͟s͠hit. Cơng͟rat̢s..̛ Shut up. I closed my eyes and get up to walk to the window and lean over the windowsill, looking at the street. Great job, you fucking parasite. Told yourself to not think about it and stay fresh like Erin said. At moments like this makes me fish for PTSD trip with eight balls, sanitised fuckers with that awful smell of atmosphere of hopelessness and insanity in the air. Or ͡an҉ ͘old͘ ̸Bad t̛ime͜s, ͏w̧h̛en ̛we͞ w͠e͢r̸e ͠to̵o busy͝ o̡rgan̨izi͠n̡g a͜ h͟u̸n̛t̸i̷n͡g pa̵ŗti̢e͞s ̸to͞ ̸ki͞l͝l͏ the͡ ̢G̛ree͟n ͟T͠err̸o͡r̨.̷ ̶T͞i̷mes͢ w͢h̷er͞e͟ ̧I w̨ere̸ ̵afr͜a̷id

Frontal tentacles act kindly and wipe out tears from my face. With force I swallow my grief and partially turn my head to her with a fail smile shaking on my face.

_ “I’ve lived long enough to get used to it. I’ll find the job, figure out what to do, maybe find a way to keep myself from falling apart like a drunk ape. This. Is WAY better than the underground or ho͢m͢el̕and͞. Heh-he, an҉d y͏ou ͞can͢’͜t ̛ma̴k̴e҉ m͘y͜ li̵fe ̕any ̧w͜or̨s͞e.͠” _

Small victory in acceptance. Or did you expect me to whine over it like I used to? After a minute I hear her somewhat weak voice:

_ “You changed..” _

With a short ‘HA!’ I completely turn to her, ready to turn the table and press her for answers.

_ “You’re one to talk! Suddenly all nice and asking questions. Care to explain the reason behind such change of character?” _

Without a word she bend and reach something in a pocket of a handbag. And she pulled out…

The CQ-80! MY CQ-80.

I blink in disbelief, jaw dropped and eyes focused at the device as she put it on the table. Something clicks inside me, I morph into the octo form and jump on the table without a second thought. My tentacles snatch the device but Helena immediately grabs my head and squeeze it hard. We exchange cold looks and I moan from pain.

_ “It. Belongs. To me.”  _

She slowly weaken her grip with judging tone

_ “Sitting on the table in octo/squid form is a bad behavior” _

Just as her grip is about to disappear and set me free she tightened her grip again, making me squeeze like a mouse and toss me on the floor. Ouch. Oh, ok..I deserved that one. Back to ‘default’ human form and get up. I shake up my head and show CQ 80 in my hand

_ “So you know?” _

Her act of cold hearted killing machine finally broke as she nodded with interest sparkling in her eyes.

_ “Only what we managed to translate.”  _

I didn’t reply, narrowing my eyes. Yea, I think I already know what happened. She took my CQ-80 when she found me, probably mistook it for some kind of weapon and tried to analyze it. And now thanks to her ‘connections’ she somehow managed to access it and translate some of the info. Probably a good info if she acts so differently. That explains her unusually peaceful behavior. I shrug and wave my hands before sitting back at the table. She remained patient, tensed.

_ “Then its integration time, I guess. Got something to drink?” _

Without a moment of hesitation she stand up from the table with short nod. We got a deal. She put glass cups on the table, bottle of some kind of alcohol with name I fail to read properly. But knowing her dedication for getting drunk, I trust her taste. With unchanged silence and uncertainty on her face she fills the glass and takes a sit.

_ “Tell me about this Project Promised Land of yours and what exactly happened to you.” _

***Countless hours of exhausting interrogation later***

_ “And then?” _ Helena asked without even looking at me, filling another glass with booze. 

_ “He ̶sn̕a͢pp̢ed͠.̶” _

Asshole reply as I/he snap fingers. Long, dreadful silence fills the room. Helena’s face is like DJ’s remixes - a fucking mess of emotions with one trying to shut up others. I don’t know if she feel any pity or regret towards me now, but she rarely look at me; trying to act cool and all. Torture liver to relax the brain. Yea, we both reduced her booze reserve by couple of bottles while I told her everything we ͟k͝n̢o̧w. Hey, she agnolage your existence now. Yaaay,͝ m̶y ̕e͏x ̸e͠ne͏m͜y͏ ̧n͟o͘w re̕s̨pects my ha͝lf-life e̕xi̧st̡e̷n̢c̕e̷. 

Erin on the other hand. She rushed in so excited and happy to see her friend returning. Hugs, friendly kisses, questions...I remind myself of her priceless reaction when she learned that I was a human. ‘Did I slept w-with..with….. a HUMAN?! Woooooo! Everyone’s gonna be so jealous!!’. Jumping and clapping like kid on drugs, flooding me with questions. That was her apex of happiness and positivity and a good moment to relax for us. But now even she looks like a mere shadow of herself. And she didn’t drink a bit, watching CQ-80 and listening to me with sober head. 

Still smile with fake happiness on her face, sitting on the windowsill. Sigh, come on girl. Wide smile and pretending to act normal won’t hide that grim look in your eyes. I stare at empty glass and mumble:

_ “I’m still surprised of how long it took me to understand…”  _ ..And mumble turns into violent flood of insults.

_ Di̸d̸ y̷o̧u͏ n͝ow!?͡ Go̶d̵ ͞d̴amn͝ mis͘car͜ri̵ed chil̸d of me͞n͠t҉al mol̡est͞a͏t͟i͏o͏n.̨ I’̧v̸e ͜b̸e͠en ͞te̶lli͏ng ̶you̷ ̷t͞hi҉s ̢ALL THE ͝TI͜ME͞,͞ bu̶t N̕OPE. It's m̵u͟c̷h ͘ea̸s͝ier ̢to ͝ig̵n̕o͏re̕ ҉t͝he f̢ac̨t̕s ̷a͜n͘d͝ bl͏i͠dn̵l͘y͢ ͢c͢o͏nvi̸n͢ce ͏eve͞r͟y͢ ͏sa̴ņi͢tised m̡other̵fu͡k̕ed̨ th̵at̢ t̷ri̢ed ̶to̴ kįl͝l̢ yǫu bo͟t͢h ͞i̷n̨ an͏d ͡ou͘tside t҉e̕sts͝ th̡a̕t ͜you’re s̶t̵il̕l͘ ͜a ha͡i͠r͟l͝e҉s̨s͞ ̵ev̢o̡ļv̕e̕d͘ APE̵ an͏d͘ def̨ini̷t̨e̷ly͏ n҉ot̷ g͝o͝i͜n̴g insan͝e͏.͏ ͡It̶ w̡ąs S̷O͟ obv͞i̧o͞u͝s,̛ ͡I’m of͜fen̕d̕e҉d͝ b͏y you̵r͟ ͘şt͝up͟id̷i̴t͡y!” _

Erin quietly whistled with surprised look and quickly spelled:

_ “Gosh, your second you is so mean.”  _

_ “I’m not-!” “..he’s not-” _

Me and Lena shut up as synchronously as we started talking and stare and each other with awkward silence. Synchronised talk is a bitch.

“A͟nd ̷now̷ k͝i̵ss̴-” Grin and fake seducing look instantly turn into a shameful blush and tired look and sigh  _ “Better than gay or racist jokes..” _

Helena seems to blush for a brief moment and Erin only giggled, but only for a moment as her face gone grim. I bend my head back and cover my eyes with tentacles. 

_ “Sorry. Just tried to discharge the situation.” _

_ “You two are doing a great job lifting none existing mood after I just relieved the most horrible time in my life.” _ I reply with distancing mumble, not feeling any desire to talk any longer. Even if she hooked me up with amphetamine dropper.

_ “̢Giv̷e h̨er͡ a bre̷a͠k, ̢she o҉nly͡ t̢ri̧e͘s̨ ͟to ̧li̶ght ̸u̢p͡ t̛h̛e̶ ̷mo͞od̸.” _

Sigh. “...I know”

Suddenly I hear Helena’s voice.

"Last question-"

“Oh͜ co̡d…S̢p̡lat me͝ ̶a̴lr͡ea̛dy"̸

_ “If you even find a way back into that-” _ She took pause, with visible confusion on her face. I raise an eyebrow

_ “-that horrible-horrible place. What. Will. You do when-” _

_ "..when I find a way back?" _ I interrupt her with cold tone and semi-closed eyes. My voice is slow and tired. I shrug and move my tentacles away from eyes; return my head to normal position and looking at her.:

"I dunno. This madness has to be stopped. But part of me dont want it to be found in the first place. I'm no hero to risk my life and save the world. I…" 

  
  


_ "IF I found a way back? *sad sigh* I dunno. I don't want to come back there or even think about it for obvious reasons. *both girls nods with slow and muffed ‘yea’*. That cold concrete grave killed me, literally." _ I move my eyes back to the wall with sadness twisting my mood yet again. I swallow and continue:

_ "I'm no hero, just another sentient lab rat, that finally got a chance to have a life, enjoy it.” _ Assholes continues:

“But ̡t̵his ̸M̵a͢dness̢ has̷ to̷ ҉b͏e ̸s̨topp̷ed, ̸R̷i͏ck. ̵Non͞e of͘ ̢us̴ w͏ant͏s that,͏ but ̸t͜h͟a̧t͟ so̸ cal̢l͞ed͠ ͞h̷e̶a̢d f̛uc̨k̕ed̶ ̴m̡as͜ochįs̕t f͟r͏om͜ pl̷um̨bing̶ ̸a̧nd̛ wires̸ m͏us̡t̡ ͡be͞ s̕top͏ped̛!̵”

_ “Asshole, thats pointless and impossible. Even IF we find a way back. There is an army of immortal dogs, Sector B for fucks sake and how to kill the AI that controls this whole facility. He’s not stupid.” _

_ “͡An̷d ̸y͡o͠u͡ ̡şug͜ges͘t ͝t͝o ̷g͡iv͟e ͝up b̵e̵cau̕se ̕t͘hi̢s҉ ̡i͏s ̕i͜mp̴oss͏i͏b҉le?! Leave ͘hi̴m ͘to ͞w̴aste oc͞t̕ol͠in͞gs fo̢r noţh̴i̛ņg͞? ͞Ma̛k͝e ͠huma͡ns͏ wh̶i̡l͡e -҉ ̕O̸h,̵ ҉wha҉t̕ ͡a̶ ̶t͠wis̢ţ - ̶HŲM̛ĄNS̛ A̢L͜RE͘A̶DY ͠EX҉I͢ST̵ ͘HERE͟ ̡AN͘D͏ ͢THE͠Y ̡ C̴AL̵LED̢ S̶ĘA̛S͟L̢IN̕GS! A͞nd͘ ̨I s̴t̷ill ̢h̢ave̸ ̵s͠ome ͡s̨c̕o̸r͢e͟s͘ to̢ se̢t҉tl͡e̴ wi̸th͡ ‘ǫld ͝fri͞e̡nd̢s’.̧..̵.  _

I moan with frustration and lower my eyes along side with the tone.

_ "I have enough to lose….I’m no hero. Never. Never will be. Aside from revenge and ‘saving the world’, its just a suicide mission of a failure than can be replaced with a snap of the finger. After all, we're more ghosts than people. Why bother saving the dead?” _

Asshole falls silent with last question echoing in my ears as it fades away. Why bother saving the dead?

_ "Wanna secret, Rick?” _ Helena’s voice switch my attention to her and raise my head. There’s something odd about the look at her eyes tho. She says:

_ “Heroes don't save the world, they don't wear capes. No fish know them, no fish praise them. Heroes do what has to be done; make sacrifices." _ She took pause and continued:

_ "The world doesn't want to be saved..-" _ and I finish her line

_ "..It want to eat you alive. Heard that a lot.” _

  
  


**Intresting turn of events, right? There is more on the way, and while you wait for the next part I'd like to hear your thoughs/opinions/feedback. I know you're too lazy to write a sentence or two, but it means a lot. Motivation, improvement. One will writing like shit till someone point out a moments that need improvement**

**And as you might see, my PC is fixed. No need to worry now.**


	2. Part 2: Whirling minds

**That little voice saying there’s still hope...It’s lying. We're all corrupted copies of whatever we were.**

Deep and quiet night. Ugh, define ‘quiet’. My head is buzzing after all those ‘interrogations’, my eyes hurt. Insomnia holds me hostage or perhaps I'm simply too scared to close my eyes. What if I wake up in a horrible place again? I don’t want to relive my past...even if it's just a dream. At least I have borrowed booze, CQ-80 and proper music for relaxation. ‘Curse’ delivered by ‘Magic Sword’. More proof that local music is pathetic in comparison to our product.

I sit on the balcony in my octo form and stare at the stars, listening to the music to relax; to let alcohol and noises blind me to ignore my memories, worries and troubles. I lay down and let the flow take me to the place I can call home. But each time I close my eyes I see unwanted flashbacks, and feel myself getting sucked back into the sea of memories, hitting in tide waves like water. I don’t want to live in the past… M͡e͏mor̨i̛e̷s̸ ̴ ar%e al͝l ҉we͡ ̷h͡a҉ve ̢lef͢t͟, Ric̢k͟.͘…I’m sick of that. Y͏ou'r̛e ͢n̨o͝t ͝th͏e on҉ly ̸o̡ne ͢who͘ go̵t ͟sic͡k o͜f ͏i͢t. J̧u͢st̨ ̧ŗelax҉ an҉d wa̶tc͞h͠.With a treacherous yawn I give myself up to the exhausting lust for a nap and close my eyes.

***Flashback***

_ “You’re in orphanage which means I don’t care where you came from whether your parents were too pussy to live for whatever cod knows reason or came with decided that you’re too ugly and stupid to be kept in house! Here you ALL equally worthless! I’ll turn you into a weapon. You’ll be ministers of death, praying to stare in your life’s eyes and spit on them. But until then you're the lowest form of life on turf! You’re not even octo-fucking-beins! And you’ll get yourself new parents as a nice bonus.” _

Ugh. I was just a lonely kid back there, but now I wonder: who came up with the idea to shove 5-7 years old orphans in military camp with a drill sergeant yelling at you 24/7 and expanding your vocabulary with insults on an alarming rate?

_ “What is your name, private?” _ He approached me and asked that question. I stood solid and replied with no hesitation or shitting myself like a new kid did.

_ “Its U35, sir” _   
  
Some kids giggled, others just looked in silence. Easy to guess who's gonna date toilets on cleaning duty, newbies. 

_ "HOLY FRESHNESS! That name is a monument to pathetic bottom feeders like you! Your mommy must be a fucking genius, huh! Is your mother a genius?" _

_ "Sir no sir..." _

_ "Squidshit, I can't hear your mumbling! Stop sucking her tits and give me an answer!" _

_ "Sir no sir!" _

_ "Good. Do you know who had enough balls to adopt you, private?” _   
  


_ "Sir, I dunno sir!" _

  
His eyes dropped down with a smile as he was looking at the list. Probably coming up with new ways to insult a little innocent kid I was. In a moment his face expression changed. He looked at me with some bits of pity and an absence of that high ear bleeding screaming he used to talk with everyone.

_ "....Life sure likes you a lot, U35. You’re adopted by-" _

***Reality***

Sounds of open door provoke me to open one eye and - oh, its Helena. She silently joined me, crossed her arms and put them on the windowsill near me. A sad look on her face, tired eyes, ears dropped down and tentacles emit a faint luminescent glow...Apparently she doesn't give a damn about showing up with only underwear, or maybe she’s too drunk to care. She seems to ignore me, looking at the streets and thinking about something. I lower the music's volume. 

_ “Can’t sleep too?”  _

She slightly nodded but then negatively shakes her head as if she denied mute reply. Then she say with quiet tone, merely pretending to sound usual:

_ “No, just...” _ She briefly looked at me with uncertainty, unwilling to finish her sentence. Trying to lie and look cool? It's so you, Lena. 

“W͝ha͟t'̵s ͝on̴ ͟y҉our min͏d͢,̨ ki҉lleŗ?͠”

She slightly turned her head to me, but one of her long tentacles blocks the view. 

_ “Just trying to wrap my head around...all this.” _

She sounds so defeated with that small admarison. Makes me feel easier, cause now I know for sure - she steps on my rake. 

_ “Don’t think about it. Toss it out of your head and stay fresh.” _ I sigh and nodded a couple of times.

She turned her head to me, misunderstood and astounded by my carelessness. My lips shape and twitch into the faint smile. I speak slowly.

  
_ “I’m not a hero like you, nor am I a cliche bad guy with plans to destroy the world. I’m a nobody in particular. Just another nameless victim, finally accepting its fate as a useless failure.” _

***Flashback***

Twenty of us stand in line, all geared up and observing chaos on the shore. Intel was right, it was a fucking war zone. Salmons and their beloved suicide horde tactic.  _ Sigh _ . We waited till a single octo form super jumped to our position. Upon landing a figure of a local commander quickly emerged and shook off ink from his beret and tentacles. At the time I felt relief seeing a familiar drill sergeant. Loud bastard got his promotion after all. Would’ve shook his hand, but this wasn’t the time for respect. He quickly glared at us, groaning with frustration and spat on the earth. Then he smirked and proceeded to ‘motivate’ us, annoyingly walking in line.

_ “Fish! This is the facts as I understand them! Salmons declared their shit for giggles ‘Great Journey’ and advancing to out positions! I already lost two squads and a minefield and those deep sea winkers keep on coming. So! What do you think about those green Iroquois fanatics from sea and their ‘Great Journey’?!” _

All of us yelled in reply:  _ “SQUIDSHIT, SIR!” _

A recruit (girl obviously) super jump to the commander and desperately yelled:

_ “Sir, they overwhelm us! We need to retreat, please!” _

He looked at her as if she wasn’t even there.

_ “Who said that?” _

_ “S-sir?!” _

_ “WHO DA FUCK SAID THAT?!” _ He proceeded to furiously walk from left to right, staring everyone in the eyes as if he want to rape your soul and cook it for dinner. We were silent and unaffected by his ‘provocation’. No laugh or any kind of reaction. That's his way of teaching discipline, get used to it 

_ “WHO’S IS THIS SLIMY LITTLE INKLING SHIT TWINKLE TOE COCKSUCKER DOWN HERE, THAT JUST SIGNED HER OWN DEATH WARRANT?!” _

And then he turned to that poor, scared girl and grabbed her by scruff of the uniform. I can only imagine what she felt.

_ “Nobody, huh?! The very fucking Octavio said it! Now WHAT DO YOU WANT, PRIVATE PUSSY FART?! ” _

Influenced by fear or simmply to terrified she turned to her octo form and jumped back in battle, crying. And we remain silent. Training and literal chaos in the background leaves you no place for acting like an inmature deepshit.

_ “..alright. LISTEN UP you elite sea slug piles of gay shit!! All of you are savage, brainwashed maniacs worthy to be a male and splat the guts out of everyone, who disagree. But THEY are fucking endless semi sentient slugs with fry pans, heavy supports and cod knows what else! For them you’re just a fresh dinner with guns and nuts. They think war can help with their overpopulation and I’m glad to help them with that!” _

***Back into the reality***

_ “You better be off with Erin.” _ Nearly usual cold tone, but I hear struggle in her voice. I raise my eyebrow and blink in confusion. 

_ “Who gave you that idea?”  _ I may sound a bit mocking, cause I have that cliche feeling like she’s about to sell herself short.

She sighed, and her ears lower themselves.  _ “She’s kind, cute; she really cares about you. you two have fun together.” _

_ “And because of that you automatically decided ‘fuck that, I’m gonna die single’ ye?” _ Mocking her makes me feel a bit better. And she’s not enjoying it.

_ “No.”  _ Quick and cold reply with an irritably dangling ear.  _ “I just want her to be happy”  _ She added, but with a lower and more soft tone in her voice as she looked down on the streets and crossed her arms with fingers grabbing elbows as if she tries to restrain herself, avoiding eye contact. Good intentions, but as always ‘something goes wrong’. Nah, that's just a made up excuse.

_ “If that's the case, then you're exact opposite of making her happy. Test failed.” _

She turns to me, judging me with her green eyes and woozy face still able to display disgust. She says nothing but I can barely hear her muffed hissing. Don’t take it on me, just accept it girl - you’ve failed. 

Another moment of tense silence. She just finished ‘my’ bottle of depression’s best friend with a faint smile popping on the edge of her lips….for a brief moment. She’s drunk, pissed off, upset and kept getting drunker. Sigh, why are you like this?

_ “Do you love her?” _ I raise my eyebrow and ear, staring at her and processing the question. And she stares back. Do I love ‘her’? Erin? Hell, I dunno...Should I? I shake my head - gosh it feels heavy with all booze inside me - and reply with:

_ “Look at me. I’m horrible relationship material. S͏hort ̕a̸nsw͝e̵r -̴ ̕no̸.̶ S͠h̶e̵ ne͜e̵d̢ s̶o̕mȩo̡ne ̢wi͟thou̢t ̛a҉ll ͠this̷ m̸e̸n̛t͜al ͝bul͜lshit͢.” _

At least we’re honest. She narrowed her eyes and bend towards me, hissing with repulsion and judgment in her face, upcoming blame and the way she points at me

_ "So you use her to get your dick wet?"  _ I roll my eyes with a grumble.

_ "Ugh. It's called friendship with benefits. You should try it, part of inkling's culture. And that's ME saying both as octoling and A ̴MAN̛. Oh, by the way - you're to talk about using. W͞ho ̛k̵ept ͏me̷ ar͡o͞u̧n͝d fo̷r̵ mont͏h̶s̶ j̵us̢t͘ to ͏s̴ati͜sfy͠ ͠yo̶u̧r ne͘ed̛ ̧ţo͟ ̶ex҉p̵l̢i̴c͘it yoưr̛ ͞p̕ain on͡ ͠me with͡ fis͠ts, ͞hm?̛" _

No reply. Only drunk staring with her hand slowly clenching.

_ “Don’t tell me you’re satisfied being nearly alone and pushing others away.” _

Her face froze in cold experion with a  frisky and self confident fast reply..

_ “I am. _ ” Too fast to be true. I negatively shake my head and point at her with a tentacle, judging her.

_ “You’re lying..” _

_ “...” _

_ “You want this, don’t you? To be loved and love back; have someone to care about and use a crying jacket.” _

_ “You don’t know me...human.” _

She barks quietly and slowly, each word echoes with cold frustration, struggle and alienation. Then she backed of me.

_ “Then let me guess: You’re an introvert, drinking booze and beating octolings. An alcoholic and a war veteran, trying to act like the most badass bitch in the neighborhood. Yet you resort to violence and pushing everyone away, using misunderstood image of Green Terror we ‘gave’ you. Pull up my mask and hide the fear on my face.” _

No reply. She groans and grins apathetically, turns her back on me. I’m unable to see her face, but her lowered shoulders and ears says enough. Maybe this is alcohol doing its dirty job or...Well, she took it to heart like they say. Rrgh, it doesn't feel right, to dig up someone’s wounds like that. 

_ “Just… Leave me alone. Please.”  _

***Flashback***

In our work field ‘business trip’ is a blessing. No fish would like to spend months in an isolated bunker guarding Zapfish and Great Octo Weapon. You’ll go insane out of boredom. Literally. Sure, you got a garrison of females to command, brainwash and abuse on a standard basis or as often as you and other officers want. But we’re no longer fourteen year olds virgins with dicks instead of brains. We have our orders, restricted communication and it feels like we’re in the war. Many of us just want to go home and forget about those high tech walls with images of the surface, day and night simulation...

And yet I kept asking myself day and night: why - *sounds of bashing* - the fUck - *it roars in a desperation and counter attacks* - did I - final blow and their head pops like a sea snail’s shell - ACCEPTED that promotion?! Aaargh! Fucking jellyfish, brains all over the floor and it smells so gross, I can still remember that disgusting stench. That was a mess. 

Killing that jellyfish was easy. No idea why high command wanted it dead though. Also that big graffiti raised some immediate questions. A drawing of strange inkling like creature on the wall in their room with crazy sentences about some kind of ‘harness’, ‘cycle’ and how ‘melody will guide you’. And why were that fish were praying to it? Whatever that was, I didn’t bother to find out.

I ran out of the room and was immediately attacked by some deepshit. I grabbed his arm and dodged behind him, pushing the bastard’s head into the doorway to crush his skull with the door. Old but reliable tactic. Two strong slams and he’s dead. But there was no time to relax as inklings found me. One with a knife, another with a bat and they were going to kill me for pretty a obvious reason - no one likes octolings in the Plaza.

I had to dash aside and dodge the first swing. Left hook to the liver, right apricot straight in the jaw, and barely managed to block a knife attack of his partner with my arm...literally. I roared in pain and punched the oppressor right in the neck. He choked and fell on the ground, incapacitated for a moment. Moaning from the pain I checked the arm with a knife sticking in it. Maybe it was for the better - adrenalin kicked in and the world narrowed down with pale red mist in the corners on my perception. Bat wielding target aggressively spelled shit in my address and recovered, preparing to make a dent in my head, but I foot kicked his knee with all my strength, catching a bat with both hands and ripped it off his possession. As he hit the floor I killed him and his friend with a bat.  **A quick and painful death.**

I proceeded to exit this shithole as fast as possible but sounds of carnage attracted more attention. Some drunk waste with hookers peaked in, too busy to notice the world around them. I switched to octo form and super jumped to the lamp on the fly; it began to swing by inertia and I use it to propel myself forward, closer to the door. As they were taking their sweet little time to react I proceeded to demonstrate why octarian race is superior. Headshot one, headshot two and your lower jaw no longer belongs to you, hahaha!

Innocents, but it had to be done. I rushed for exit, but unfortunately bumped in another surprise..

**_*Reality*_ **

I negatively shake my head with a sigh, grab my CQ-80 and step into the apartment with one eye still looking at her.

_ “As a white man peasant I should fall on my knees and bow before some strong and independent woman like you, take blame for your failures. Mocking social tumors aside, here’s a real word of wisdom: It's okay to cry and admit your weakness. If you’re perfect, then what the fuck are you, a machine?" _

_ W͢h͞i̵t҉e ͜m͝an̛ ͢peasan͝t?̶ ͝For͜ ̡'̡ee̶l͜? T̨hi҉s͜ ͠i͏s ̡s̶o͟un͠d̵s m̶o҉re͟ ̴li̢k͞e ̴i͝n͞şu͘lt͘ rat̸h͟er̕ ̷t͞h̡an͏ a̸ p͢un͢!  _

_ “....leave.”  _ I barely heard what she just mumbled, quietly sobbing in the corner and looking down. To see your so called nemesis, a merciless exterminator of your race...crying in loneliness. I feel pity, an̢d̨ I͏ fe͠el ̕dis͟appo͜i̵n͝t͟ment.͘ ̡L̨ets͏ ̶go̵ ţo ͞s͘le͝e͜p̷, ͠t͘her̕e̕ ͠i̴s nothing mo͞r͞e͞ to ̨say̧. 

**_*Another flashback*_ **

Imagine the worst possible adversary one can face. I was lucky enough to face one - a sharkling with red jersey and green number 88 appeared. Hyperactive and aggressive mountain of muscles with tons of physical strength. He’s taller than me, stronger than me. Any combat expert would say that soldier’s status in that kind of situation is fucked.

_ “Howdy-do-de. What's an eight limbed pretty boy doing here? ”  _ He said slowly, mocking me with every single word and closed the door behind himself, breaking the handle in process. I took two steps back and focused, clutching the bat tighter. We stared at each other. I didn’t show any signs of panic or stress, but to be honest, I was on edge. On the other hand he was relaxed and confident for obvious reasons. That unfresh bottom feeder could’ve ripped me in half without breaking a sweat.

“Step aside, big guy. That's none of your business”

I remember that wide, maniac smile and hunger in his eyes...eegh. And the way he said:

_ “Sorry, can’t do. Its a corporate decision. I wonder how your tentacles taste.” _

Gross. It was something between hungry pedofile and calibal in love. Then he licked his lips...uuuugh, why hadn't Tartar didn’t erased that from my mind?!

I had no other choice but to kill him, so burst forward and jumped. Aim, scream like crazy connect the bat with his forehead. I smashed it good, with the satisfying sound of breaking bones filled my ears. Or so I thought. It merely stunned him. He laughed louder, closing his eyes and holding his belly.

_ “Ho-ho-ho! OOH-ho-ho! Are you trying to kill me? Hah, watch it, boy”  _ No blood, no pain; nothing. My bat cracked from that hit and that shook me. I slowly walked backwards till I hit the wall. In return he took a step forward to keep us both at the same distance. I was trapped and I laughed, seemingly in desperation and my own stupidity, lowering my weapon in a moment of confusing and feeling a bit lost. 

But then he went into the fight stance. I took another swing but he grabbed the bat with one hand and punched my face with another. I remember how everything turned gray for a moment as I felt on the floor and felt a lot of pain, shook and how wrong my jaw felt. He displaced it, nearly broke it! Then he grabbed my leg and tossed me into the other wall like a plush toy. And then he tossed me into the ceiling and literally broke the bat in half by head bashing it against his nose. He was laughing as he pulled me up, still holding my leg. I was hanging upside down, dizzying and losing control with adrenaline keeping my guts together like glue.

He took his sweet ass time, examining his new found soon to be dinner, but I had one last chance to break free. A knife in my arm. Pull it out and deal with internal bleeding or be ripped to pieces and eaten. I chose death in struggle - grabbed the grib and pulled the knife out. Then...uh...I hardly remember what happened. Too much adrenaline and acting on auto pilot. Or maybe I asked to brainwash that part out of my head.

  
  


**Here we go. I wonder what you think about this whole 'flashback' narration idea. Any thoughts about Helena and Rick? What about Asshole's past and octarians in general? Leave your feedback and comments...if you can**


	3. Part 2.5: LORE!

Au~u~dience....Hi. I decided to give my characters a day off and take a look behind the scenes, talk about the lore of this universe. No quality, no hard thinking for me. Just a casual stream of info. If you’re not interested in lore and just want to see Rick finally [spoilers], then...heh. Have some patience.

Let's start with something recent:  **Inkopolis Plaza** . You're gonna  _ love _ it. Once upon a time it was a popular place, a shining magnet for inklings and sealings with ambitions. Turf War HQ, best shops to satisfy the need of every squid from the bottom to the top of freshness level: clothing, footwear and accessories for fashion and battle; weapons and training and - of course - the famous perk rolling urchin. But around 6-8 years ago Inkopolis Square was built and Turf War HQ was relocated. Plaza turned into the ghost town. Shopkeepers left with no profit to make. But the place began to attract different kinds of fish. Kids with tough life, banned from turf; looking for drugs or places to be.

Nowadays this place is a heaven for every troubled teen and adult rejected by society - a motherfucking flux of anarchy with all kinds of sexual, brutal or even narcotic adventures. Want some easy sex and new feeling in bed? Welcome to Plaza! Want to reach the sun and talk to rainbow dragons? Welcome to Plaza? Wanna get your hands or eyes get soaked in blood?! In that case Plaza wants to know your location. Illegal games/ sports like gladiator arena, battle royale Turf War with no respawns...or even ‘Kukushka’(worse than Russian Roulette. Just google ‘Kukushka - officers game’). Why is this place still up and running? It's simple - money. Fish with ambitions, money and power are interested in this place existing in its current form. No law, no restriction, gangs and posising freedom. Be aware of gangs tho. They’re dangerous.

Couple of words about residents of this fishy ghetto: Mostly inklings, in some cases raylings, urchins. Jellyfishes appear only on special occasions like making a deal or having some important meeting. There are also groups of sharklings, acting like a neutral gang, but we’ll get to them in a minute. Atmosphere of racism and intolerance makes Plaza extra dangerous for octolings to visit or even be near that damn place. If you’re eight limb ink sucker like Rick and don’t want to get in trouble, then Plaza is off the limits of ya, squiddo.

And now let's talk about the elephant in the room, or rather shark in the room.  **Sharklings** . Imagine what would happen if you combine stereotypes about bodybuilders with mako shark, human and bitch slap them into the evolution pit. And then feed resulting abomination with energy drinks. I’ll give you a hint - you’ll get sharklings. And boy oh boy, evolution did a number on those bastards. Big bad mako sharks are gone. Another not so common type of fish in this city of dreams. Grey skin with white line on the middle, shark teeth, average growth of 2 meters, beefed up body of bodybuilder and a gang of small tails with properties of tentacles. There is supposed to be a joke about hentai, but their hair looks more like a plush toy.

There’s one stereotype about sharklings to note: ‘Shark sleep only in a coffin’. Too lazy to stay in one place. Is it a part of the shark legacy or evolution to generously shove a nuclear plant down their ass upon birth? Some even think they bleed with caffeine. Spoiler alert - they don’t. One can see untamed energy in their eyes with a wide creeping smile. Not many of them live in Inkopolis, but they’re often seen in Plaza putting their energy to ‘use’. 

I dunno why, but Greeks were the source of inspiration for them. All this addiction to sport and physical activities both good and bad; culture builds around beauty of the body and strength. Ironically for species that evolved from cold blooded sharks they have a hot, boiling character. Call one of them weak and you might start digging your own grave. Respect is their currency and they value that. Want their respect? Show them that you’re not the one to fuck or be good at physical sport with and they’ll respect you despite your race.

Inklings and octolings instinctively seek violence which is why they seem obsessed with Turf War. After all this is a result of their social evolution, a way to blow off some steam and solve conflicts. Don’t mention the Great Turf War though, consequences of that 100 years old mess still remain fresh in the minds of the older generation and affect modern life. Those who don’t play Turf are more likely to be a mean jackass and have social problems. And before you point out on Helena - her backstory will be told soon. I’m not gonna talk about how inklings like to stay up at night, have fun and sleep all morning. That stuff is unchanged. Do they die in water? Cod, who gave you that idea, Nintendo?! Unless water is filled with toxic waste or salt nothing will happen. They can swim, take shower, dive in and do all kinds of things normal human beings can do in H2O.

And now the most important stuff: the world after the year 2064. What happened to our dirty blue platen after all those horrible events like Chernobyl’s Crimson Forest in 2020, Equestrian conflict in 2034 aka the first Syndicate war, China’s catastrophe in 2040 and other stuff that I should cover in my original books...Unless you read this in future and you already know what happened….Ahem!

_ ‘Winter is coming’ _ said no sealing ever, cus they never saw snow to begin with! Life is everlasting summer with a 25 hours day cycle; most of modern civilization is located in Japan islands archipelago and Asia’s coastline near the Sea of Okhotsk and Japanese Sea. Most of the planet is in equatorial zones or nearby. Don’t forget about shifts in tectonic plates over 12 millenia. North America has gone Rapture and went underwater. Eurasia, well….uh. East side is a fucking desert. Everything from the Ural mountains to the Great Chinese Wall is buried in dust and sand. No desert plants or wildlife, no ruins or any echoes of civilization. Nothing but sand. No wonder why rising sea level caused a war between races for inhabited land.

Africa merged with South America and some islands. Entire continent and water territories around it are overpopulated by salmonds. Plus they’re fully colonized Australia. You might want to hear about Salmons and how different they’re from vanilla's squid eating jackass we kill for their eggs aka power source. GJ Nintendo, make us assist with enforced child slavery even before their birth.

In my world they're a race of isolated savages with pretty solid infrastructure, overpopulation problems and religion designed to solve that in quite a clever, yet immoral way - the ‘Great Journey’. Every 70 or so years they declare a religious war with everyone else till their numbers fall low enough for stable existence. The goal is simple - capture more land with the max possible amount of friendly casualties. What's so terrifying about them, you ask? Imagine you have to fight seemingly endless hordes of sentient creatures. And they won’t moan the fallen brothers and sisters you’ve killed. They won’t feel pity towards you. They'll just wipe you out of existence and take your place. Military is always in conflict with them. At least there’s one benefit in neverending meatgrinder between salmons and the world - their eggs. Expensive but really popular food products.

I should also mention evolution. How the hell did sea life manage to evolve to the level of humanity in just a couple of millenia?! Was it a natural or artificial process? The answer is  **‘yes’** . It's complicated really. Remember I mentioned Crimson Forest(Mysterious mist that occupied reserve Red Forest(sometimes called Rusty Forest), an anomaly that affects the flow of time and bends reality around itself.) and 25 hours day cycle? Basically after the mysterious death of humanity a series of similar anomalies ravaged the earth, affencing time flow of everything in path. You can say sealife received a speed bost for horeshit knows how long. Why were humans in the underground weren’t affected by it? Maybe they were, but they didn’t notice any changes as they were too busy working on creating Tartar.

Last, but far from the least. Let's talk about  **YOU** , my reader. I often ask for opinions, feedback, critique. Yet only a select few have enough  **BALLS** to talk and help me out. You might think ‘Meh, others will do it’ or ‘I’m bad at providing feedback’. Well, guess what? Others think the same and expect you to do their job. I’m not asking for something complex or ground breaking. Just write a couple of nice words, appreciate the writer for his hard work, tell him what you like/dislike about the part you've read and feel free to continue your life! It's that easy! And it has its effects. It's nice to see people care about my work, it motivates me to keep on going. And suggestions, pointing out things to improve - this is the ONLY way for writers to become better. Help me and I’ll provide you with good stuff to read.

By~ the~ way. My eng is rusty, especially with grammar and tenses. And before posting for your eyes to see, each part requires a second opinion of a person I can trust. Someone, who сan unleash her private gang of parrots to go full grammar nazi on my ‘creation’ and then tell me how pathetic my current draft is (joking). Yep, it's her - **Miss** **_Lauren G._** aka ** _Isalover._** Look at her, sitting disappointed by you for not respecting our hard work, drinking some expensive shit and waiting for Animal Crossing.

(No art for you on this site)


	4. Part 3: Get your head in the game

***Days later***

J̕OJ̸O͞ R͞EFE͘RE͘N̷CE ͡T͏IME!̛ Sigh, we’re in DOJO! But I’d call it gym if it was up to me. Just a short break on a cocktail, then back to ‘getting my ass kicked’ training program. Glass walls, large punching bags, white circle in the middle for sparring, treadmills and of course a respawn point in case of need.

My eyes get attracted to Helena, dominating one of the punching bags in boxing fury and listening to music with bandages around her fists and typical small wired headphones, connected to the mp3 player on her waist. I can’t stop myself from looking at her in action. Her focused face, her favorite makeshift glued ponytail haircut, two tentacles twitching left and right like a dead weight as they remain glued to her nape; that nice looking breast hidden under black tank top to keep it still, denying its upression and shaking like a rebel; those hips in sport shirts attracting my attention. Octarians should’ve called her ‘The Forbidden fruit’...Mmm, yea- OOFf! What the?! Who the fuck just punched me?! I҉t̡'s̢ y͜ou͏r co̡n͟scien͟c̢e͜, you a̶gen̷t̸ ̛h͢o͝rney͏ d̢ic̕k͠! Stop̸ w̡r͝it͝in̸g ̸p̷orn ͏fa͟nf̵ics in ̧MY ̨h̡ea͞d a̢n͢d͜ get ͡b̷ac͞k to wor̸k!

I quickly glared at Erin with uncertainty. Similar sport/seduction outfit, elbow on the ‘goat’ and she’s drinking cocktails. I stretch my neck with grumpy moaning and go in the cercle, clapping hands as I go.

_ “Er, let's do another one” _

She narrows her eyes with an evil smirk in reply and finishes off her drink. We walk in the circle. She quickly warmed herself up by punching the air and doing some exercises. I don't ceremony and just go in a battle stance.

_ “Ready?” _

_ “Ye. Lets go” _

I take a wild forward swing, but she instantly dodge by catching it with her left hand, while striking my sides with my right hand. Ogrgh..That hurt. I flinch and she crotch, grabbing my leg and going in a sitting position tossing me as a goddamn bag of salt through her shoulder. She quickly goes in standing pose, but I roll and use my lying position to kick her out of balance and force her on the ground. Success! While I have the chance I stand on my knees and jump on her, attempting to incapacitate her by choking her with legs. Of course she understood what I planned to do, so we both entered a struggle state. I try to defeat her, she tries to defeat me. Hero training vs octarian training.

She goes in squid form and fluently escapes my grasp with a ‘booyah!’. I roll back and stand up, taking a combat stance. She does the same. Guess its round two then. O͢k, ͘m̧y̡ t͜u̶rn̨.͟ And you start by pointing at her with your finger and bending it, calling her to come closer. W̴a̧t͘ch҉ a̧nd le҉ar̷n,͡ h͜o͢rny̴ human. She smiles and takes a swing, but my body goes out of my control. I put both palm forward and push her arm, forcing her not only to miss but go off balance in the direction of redirected punch. Then my hands grab hers, forcefully straighten it and then I ram her with my shoulder. Forcing her on the edge of the circle. She falls down, but quickly rolls and manages to use remaining inertia to roll on her knees and launch a counterattack. I crouch like a spring and jump with my fist going for her chin. 

But she stretched her legs to the sides and used both palms to fly over me. I land on my knees and turn around, going in defence. She makes a turn with swinging her leg, aiming for my head for quick incapacitation but I catch her foot with both hands and pull her towards myself. She didn’t expect that and rapidly lose balance from my pull but jumps on her other leg to regain balance, while trying to break free. I commit the bandwagon, forcing her to fall on her back. In a split second I move my hand closer towards her hips, without losing the grip of her leg, keeping it directed to the ceiling; my other hands softly pin her neck to the floor. 

She’s defeated, smile with a faint blush, sweat riding from her forehead to her eye mask, cheeks and lower. Asshole grin in victory, as the feel of connection flows through me. U͠h-hm͢h͡, ̵b͏od͏y is ͞yours a͠g̨a̴in̕.̴ Uurrgh, I’ll never get used to that sensation of momentary discomfort, as if of someone sticking needles in your eye. Ooh...Oh, back in control. Our eyes meet as we exchange weary breaths, staring at each other with no words. She wink and smile. She looks so vulnerable, accessible. I slowly lower my head under the weight of attraction. She bit her lip in anticipation. My frontal tentacles reach her face and wipe the sweat away. I feel her breath, infecting me, her eye pulling me closer and closer. And...Sigh. Our lips connected in a kiss. I close my eyes and embrace her influx of emotions. It feels….g͘͡o̴̵o͢d͘. Like a reward after hours of grind. I feel her arms slowly wrapping around my head, playing with tentacles and diving lower, towards-

And everything goes gray with a itchy sound of snap as I see myself floating to the respawn point. 

_ “AAARGH! ...What the-?! You j͏u̵st͟ ̷g̨o̡t͏ pran͞k̴ed͟. IMAO! By snapping my neck!? EEEERRRRIIIN!!!” _

Fall in my ass, not leaving a respawn point and try to stop shaking from the shook, hellfire level of my ass ignition and mix of broken feeling. And she just rolled on the floor, all covered in my pink ink and unstoppably laughing like a child on meth mixed with chocolate ice cream and drumming the floor with fitsts. Sh̡e͞ ̵t̛ŗic̕ked us l̛ik҉e͘ ͞a͠ ̸st̡upi̸d͝ t̴een̸s! ͞H̕a̧h! I feel so ashamed right now...Wel̢l,͢ ͟ne̢xt ҉t̸ime̴ inste͝a̷d ͠of̨ k͘is̴s̷ing͏, j͢ust ̕sh͏ov͘e̕ di̷c̵k̶ in ̧her͞ mo̵u͠t͝h….Mayb̧e ņot̛ in pųb͏lic̢..

Helena stared at the scene, switching her attention between Erin to me with confusing and barely noticeable ‘wtf’ slowly slipping through her lips. She removed headphone from her ear.

_ “Care to explain what are you two doing?” _

_ “Lena! - I! - Did what you - taught me!”  _

Erin’s attempts to talk in between her floods hysterical laugh didn’t make the situation less shameful for me. Lena went towards Erin, throwing her attention on me:

_ “What happened?” _

I take a deep angry sigh and act calmly.

_ “She baited me into kissing her and SNAPPED MY F-f-f-fUCKED NECK!” _

Close enough. In reply our agent fat͝al sl̢u͢t͡….Agent Four bursts in new wave of lauging. Gee, girl. Share some sense of humor with me!

_ “You should’ve seen his face! Totally worth it!” _

_ “Ugh, that wasn’t funny, Er!”  _ I growl through gritted teeth, getting out of respawn point. Lena silently giggles, Erin shakes ink off her face and they both exchange high five. I rob my face with both palms. Rel͢a-a͢-͟a̷x,͠ ͠bo͜omer. ͘Let͏ ̵gir͡ls̵ have̷ ̧s̴o̷m͘e ͝f͟un. You call that fun?! I….You know what? Never mind…

If I were a religious person, I’d start praying by now for her to shut the fuck up already and stop acting like a child, cus this is getting out of control and my patience is getting low~! Suddenly this embarrassing laugh fest got interrupted by phone ringtone. Erin immediately rushed to her purse, took the phone and answered the call with her usual fresh voice and mood, while walking to the corner. Helena briefly looked at me.

_ “You ok?” _ She asked with a pretty casual tone and I waved my hand in reply with a ‘meh’ type of expression on my face.

Half a minute later Er slowly walks back to us, holding phone in her hand with uh...less fresh expiration if I can say so myself. She sigh

_ “Sorry Lena, but I have to go. Cap’s calling.” _

_ “Duty calls” _ Lena understandably reply with a nod. They share a hug, then Erin proceeds to the dressing room. Or so I thought. After few steps she stops, turn her head to me and wink with a smile

_ “I’ll be back before supper. Don’t kill each other, ok?)” _

I unwillinlysmile in return and wish to- hǫl̷d t͠he ͘s̨e̕ah̴or͏se͢s.͏ 

_ “Er̢,̕ ͢c̛an ͞yo͘u̸ do͡ m̡e ͏a̵ ̨fa̧vor̛?”̸ _

She smiles, looking a bit more excited than usual

_ “I’m all ears.” _

“͟D͘o͞n͢’t̕ k͠i͝ll̷ ͝fe͏m̸a̷le͏s on dut̨y͜. ̢T͜h͡ey͝’̵re ̷sl̢a͏v̢es, b҉ra҉i͟nw͝ashe͢d ̶v̴ict͠i̷ms̷ o͞f̡ th̢e̶ ͢r͟egime͢. ͞Just ta̴ke̡ out̶ mal͘e̸ h͜i҉gh ̢r̴an̕k͘s͜ o͜r ͜gla̕s̨ses̛...Plea̸s̨e”̛

Her ears and eyes drop as her face goes from excited and confident to concerned and serious. Moment of awkward silence. I turn my head to Lena, but even she looks serious, staring at Er and negatively shakes her head with a threatening look. With confusion I turn back to Erin. She look me in the eyes with a solid nod:

_ “I’ll try.” _

What the fuck what that all about? And she walks away, jumping from leg to leg like a red hood girl in her quest to reach grandma. 

_ “Don’t you dare play with them, Agent Slut!” _

H̕old on! Di҉d͢ I̛ ͘hea͜r̸ t̵h̢at r̢ight?͘!̕ I bend and grin, closing my ears, blushing and feeling discomfort and disarray from unexpected shout from behind with Helena’s judging voice. Erin didn’t stopped, only giggled and raised her hand, flipping us both like a boss. The moment she leave m line of sight I turn to Helena. She already stood with her arms crossed below her breast.

“I know what you’ll ask: why-”

“̴I t͝h̶ou͏g̢h͏t͢ i̸ts̶ ͏w̶as ̴ju͘st͏ ͝a ͢f͢ake rumor…͟”͢

_ “Uh-um….” _

Asshole sound confused. Lena looked bemused and surprised. I’M confused! Anyone care to explain what they are talking about?! B̕e̸ ̧a big̕ ̷fr̵ien҉dly҉ ̕paras̵ite ̢yo̴u’re͘ ̧a̸n͏d ͠c̛o̢unt ͏2͢+̸2. 

I cough with a pause and bait her attention. 

_ “Erin is hedonistic, dus you call her like that - I figured that out. But can any of you two explain the rumor you mentioned?” _

And I get a negative head shake with our beloved Agent 3 checking time as if I asked it. 

_ “Our time is almost up. Lets go change clothes and go home” _

I raise my hands and wave them with a single, annoyed ‘fine, geez’ blasting out of my lungs. With the corner of my eye I notice something odd in reflection and turn my attention to the mirror Ok, what’s wro...ng. The fuck am I looking at? Who is this old guy? Why does he mimic me? Oh...Oh, ye, I remember. That's me. Well, what I used to be.  **A human** . Old, broken, afraid to even say something not polite and stinking with depression; looking at the naked wire hanging from the ceiling right behind me. Just a quick touch and twenty seconds of agony being cooked alive from the inside. But the reward is all worth it - death. Freedom from misery and hopeless existence without the sun, surrounded by grey, claustrophobic walls of the dream job...that become our prison with life sentences. But my eyes focus on something else - my throat is ripped and bleeding with a handmade knife stucking in it. Yet I feel nothing: no pain, no shaking, not even discomfort or confusion. Simply. Nothing. I don’t panic, I don’t laugh like a psychopath who just lost it. 

The only thing I feel is shame from being defeated by Erin and disappointment for what I see right now. I roll my eyes, negatively shaking my head and dismiss this hallucination with muttering anxiety morphing into frustration:

_ “Go fuck yourself, brain. I’m not. Impressed.” _

_ “You’re on the period again?” _

I don’t see Lena, but her voice sounds near, unamused. Is that her sick sense of humor or she generally failed to make it sound funny. I rob my eyes with a tentacle, looking at my delucinal reflection with hallucinations spreading behind me.

“Argh, just punch me already, I’m sick looking at this gothic style attack of negativity and sui-CI-!!”

Unexpected and real strong bitch slap right in the nape toss me reaps me away from my delusions. I bend my knees by inertia and look at the mirror again.

_ “Ah, yep. All back to normal. Thanks” _

I say with gratitude and breathe with relief. Lena cross her arms just below her breast and silently judged me. I awkwardly smile and brush, feeling myself as a cat who did something stupid. She said nothing and moved into the dressing room. 

***Shortly after when they went outside***

Dark - grey clouds, faint feel of dizziness and distant lightning echoing with delay. Rain is coming. Without any word exchange we jogged towards the nearest bus stop. Two….three, five minutes of non stop moving. It's like a marathon agants time with your reward being wet and smelling with sweat or getting soused and walking home with shame. We see the bus ahead at the stop, accepting sealings inside. I quietly roar, hearing another lightning and rash forward, switching to spring and supposing Lena.

_ “Wait! Don’t go without me!”  _

I run as fast as I can and almost reach the doors, feeling anxiety, heaviness in lungs and joy. But the doors close right in front of my eyes and the bus starts moving, completely ignoring my presence.

_ “Hey! HEY! Oh, for fuck sake!” _ I wave hands and scream, but the bastard drives away.

_ “Six-wheeled traitor, GET BACK HERE, you convincingly leaving a piece of plankton shit! F-fuuck!” _ I yell in frustration on an empty bus stop. Life is playing tricks with me today and adding a cherry on the cake of disappointment called ‘today’ with the first drops of rain going down. Fuuuuuuuuuu! I want to fall on my knees to moan and swear on stressfully on every passing fish till my throat will rebel in pain. I hear Lena’s footsteps catching up, so I go under the roof and take a sit on the bench, catching up my breath. Lena stops near me, extends her hand against the metal frame of the bus stop and leans against it to catch up her breath. She put her sports bag on the ground and her free hand on her hips.

I look at her. My mood just got kicked in the balls for the second time today and I hope you’re not planning to ruin it even farther, girl. Uugh…I hastily hit the plastic wall of the bus stop with my nape and sigh, muttering:

_ “That fucker closed the door right in front of me and drove away…” _

She says nothing and rain is getting stronger, louder. But I swear to balls I heard her faint chuckle. I quietly moan in desolation. Everyone plays tricks on me today…Hm? She walk around me and take a sit near me, looking at the west street with cars passing by,

_ “I guess that driver...didn’t like octolings.” _

I turn my sight on her, confused by her sudden constraint in voice. Uh - not only in voice, she looks uncomfortable, yet she sits right next to me. I lower my head and tackle my tentacles, looking at the distant tower in the Square with Great and fucking powerful Zapfish glowing like a christmas tree even in shit weather. 

_ “...Look at that Zapfish.”  _ I take a pause and point at that insulting kick in a balls from evolution

_ “I could’ve had a job I know, work for life, be independent and capable. But it stole my work, no one need my knowledge about electrical systems and energy production. And even if they did-”  _ I grin, but hold my frustration in check.

_ “- No one would employ me, just like they do now. ‘We got jellyfishes for hard work’ they say. ‘Your kind should play Turf’ they told me! Yea, screw that, I’ll manage. Decreasing amount of hallucinations thx to peaceful lifestyle with no one trying to kill, rape and brainfuck you - not in the particular order btw; dual personality shit - its a pain in the ass, sure and strangers might call me insane. Yeah, I kinda am.” _ Still no reply from Lena. I look at her and decide to continue

_ “And then there’s you. You used to make my already hard attempts to adapt even worse.”  _ Before my tone and frustration go out of control I raise my hand and negatively shake my head

_ “I- hm?” _

She casually shuts my mouth up with her hands without even looking. I gently remove her hand and raise an eyebrow. She sighted and looked back at me.

_ “Rick. You think too much. Just - how do they say it - stay fresh, play Turf and enjoy your life. Isn’t this what you wanted?” _

I cool down and digest her words in silence between us. Spit on concrete principles of life and life like a teen? Turf, sex, drinks, repeat. That's how inklings and octolings live. That's how I should live. But my experience, my guts tell me to work, think ahead; pull myself back into the usual circle of existence. I have my doubts. Asshole, what’s your opinion on this? You got ͢r̴o͘ma͝n̶c͘e mo̡men͏t,͞ ͘th̨at̵'̶s ͏on ͠y͠ou.̸ Call̕ m͢e ͟whe̷n you҉’l͝l͡ ̶nee҉d͘ so͏me͝one to k̶il̷l o̴r̡ inşu̵l͏t. Gee, thanks…

AAaargh, fuck it.Let's shake this thought out and switch the vector of this torture called ‘waiting for the bus’. 

_ “Why do you act so strange right now..?” _

It's like she snapped from a sudden question, sliding a bit away from me and staring at me with confusion, slightly blushing. Guess I need a bit explanation of the question.

_ “You usually act like an unstoppable badass, confident, not taking shit from anyone. Yet now you’re sitting with me and your voice, your restrained look... Its like you force yourself to be near me. And there is no booze to make it easier for me. Can you - I dunno, enlighten me on that topic?” _

She look down with one, single sad exhale. Then she clenches her fist, and slowly wash her face with both hands.

“Do you know what it's like to be loved?”

“Yes. N͡o̶.̵”

She ‘swallow’ her lips with her ears falling down.

_ “I never was good at making friends or ‘interacting’ with others, you know....Shell, I don’t have friends at all! Bullies understand only language of strength. I learned that lesson well. So I don’t let anyone be in my personal space. Erin suggested to be closer with you, get to know you better. Though I’m not a great fish for conversation and you.” _

_ “Great. So we have two battle scarred bastards with socio-psychological problems now.” _ I say with sarcasm and chuckle, but what she said about ‘no friends’ makes me ask in curiosity and negative theories boiling up inside:

_ “Wait. Erin isn’t a friend for you? Who is she then: your lover, sister?” _

Lena grind her teeth and goes to the usual cold boner killer tone vibe.

_ “Erin is more than a friend. She’s my family, you dildo carrying fuck!...sorry.” _

I don’t even feel offended, so I chuckle. She faintly smiles in response.

_ “By familiy you mean not blood related type of family, ye?” _

_ She gives me that soul freezing stare again and I back down, raising my hands and shaking them as if I’m surrendering. _

_ “J-just to be sure.” _

_ She nods _

_ “Yes.” _

I rob my nape for a moment, thinking. Then I awkwardly smile

_ “Well, if you don’t make friends, friends make you.” _

Moment of confusion. 

_ “...Translating that proverb was a mistake. Ahem! What I’m trying to say is that I can be your friend. Don’t worry, I don’t bite or anything.” _

And she stares at me, completely lost. If̨ ͜anyo̡n̸ę ͞to͝ld͘ me ̡thats ͡t̴he G͝re͜e̕n̡ T͢e̡rro̵r,̸ I̕’d not ̨b͞el͝ie̕ved ͏t̢h҉ęm. But she quickly complete her processing of my offering of hand and hearth with a serious look and her typical killer tone:

_ “You keep Erin’s addiction in check, treat her well.”  _ She took a pause to exhale. 

“ _ A-and we’ll get along just fine.” _

I can’t help but smile for various reasons. One of them is fear.

_ “You make it sound like we’re making a deal. Btw  _ that's the first time I hear a girl asking my to have sex with her friend” _ ” _

She faintly smiles and casually reply.

_ “...Heh, yea.” _

I move my hand to her for hand shaking, feeling positive vibe

_ “Friends?” _

She slowly moves her arm and almost completes the handshake, but in the last moment she partly clenches her fingers, pulling her hand back and up a bit in hesitation. We exchange glances, she sigh and regain her confidence, shaking my hand.

_ “Friends.” _

_ “A question then: can I sleep on your couch then? It's more comfortable than a mattress..” _

Here she goes to being a cold tonned lady again.

_ “Only on  _ **_one_ ** _ condition: you try to touch me in bed and I’ll rip your hands off. Got it?”  _

I nod in conformation. We both burrow our eyes into our mobile devices. Suddenly she asks:   
  
_ “Btw, Splatoween is tomorrow with themed Splatfest. Want anything as a gift?” _

_ “You mean Halloween? In the middle of the summer?” _

_ “Does your holiday have kids walking around collecting candy?” _

_ “Ye” _

_ “Does everyone wear costumes during that holiday?” _

_ “Ye..” _

_ “Then its Splatoween” _

I take pause to process the ridiculous moment: they stole our holiday and slightly changed its name.

_ “But it's the middle of the summer and there is no snow here!” _

She put down her phone and look at me, confused:

_ “What is this summer and snow you’re talking about?” _


	5. Part 4: First holiday to enjoy

**_...What are you? Where are we?_ **

**_Lost in a cyclic confusion?_ **

**_Is freedom just an illusion...?_ **

Sanitised abomination throws a punch at me, but I catch their hand and Ink punches their face. Ink and shockwave send them away with the delayed sound of breaking walls. I look around, barely holding balance and desperately gasping for air with each heavy breath hurting me with anger that screams to get out. More is teleporting in, surrounding me. I knew this would happen. One way trip back to hell. Everything hurts, my head is shaking, I can’t feel my fingers. Adrenaline and ink circle in my veins like burning gasoline. My heart is pumping pure, unfiltered rage and insanity, pushing this broken wreckage I call a body to its limit. My cause is naive; my will is strong. And my voice is very - very angry. 

I’ve said something. Like a battle cry or mocking. And one of them steps up closer than others. Bare feet, free movement. I recognise him....They called him V2. One of my corrupted and fucked up iterations. He pointed to me, saying something and slowly curled around me with his long back tentacles dragging on the floor, while his tentacles on the head ignited. 

With defiance I spat out blood and wiped it off from my mouth diving in this violent exchange of words with no meaning. They sound so pale, hollow and fatigue. Like a white noise to my ears. But I understand one thing - I’m not the one who’s talking with him. 

Unexpected strong shake and blurred voice make me blink. And now I’m staring at the filled shopping cart handle I hold. Confusion instantly goes away, I look at Raymora with embarrassment.

_“Dinnae sleep in a middle of a wee shopping spree, laddie. Splatoween has not yet started”_

She faintly smiles and shakes her head with a judging look. Don’t judge me, you whiptail swimmer mechanic! I’m not used to standing in lines, especially that long. Should’ve gone to a less crowded store. Still, that wasn’t typical hallucination. I don’t remember anything like that. Was that a vision, imagination affected by my condition? N-no; must not think about it. Makes me uncomfortable and weird. Silly me, falling asleep in the middle of Mako Mart. And today is so called Splattoween holiday aka Helloween minus snow and pumpkins. Locals already wear ‘scary’ costumes: kids to cool fresh and raid homes for candy. Adults - to look sexy...and rain homes for candy with kids. A day to unite all species except jellyfishes. Those genderless workaholics have no understanding of fun. Or so it seems to me. Splatfest will begin at 22:00. Hm, my first Splatfest to attend... 

Argh, still can’t toss that trip out of my mind. Uh, what to do. Oh, how about supply check? Gonna make sure we’ve brought everything. Let’s see…

A dozen of salmon eggs, milk, distasteful green - check

Small box of chocolate - check

Booze for Green Terror - check

Money to actually buy all this - check

Condoms and energy drinks - check. I’m scared to imagine why or for what Erin needs even more energy, she doesn't know what to do with her own! Maybe I should build a big wheel, connect it to the generator and let her generate some tax free electricity for the house? Nah, she’ll just assume that's my way to say ‘you’re fat, deal with it’ and break me in half. Female logic never changes...

Warden rayling keeping me on the leash, as girls asked - check. Ugh, speaking of logic: they still don’t trust me being all alone in the wild. Are they jealous of something? I'm still a dog on a leash. The only thing that changed is my master

PTSD, second personality and nightmares, a͞k͞a̴ r͡e͠s̴i̕de͟n͞ts͞ ̶of ̨m̷y̧ br̴a̴i̕n̸ i͢n͘c͏l͠ud̵in̨g hu̢m͘an̵ m͏i͢n̛ded p̸us̶s̢y̴ ͘in̸ cont̛rol roo̕m͝ -̵ ̵check. I love you too, Asshole. DO͞N'T!̸ ͢Y̷ou͘ f͡uc͞ki̛n͡g da̵re..̨.

***later***

Finally reaching that familiar sign of safety - apartment door. Rymora follows me like a happy puppy, non stop muttering something in her native language with an excited vibe. I unlock the door, step….in the fuck’s name happened here? Things on the floor, shoes all over the place, torn letter envelope; Erin’s room is closed with muffled sounds coming out. And no one is greeting us. I don’t like the looks of this mysterious chaos already. We begin investigation by slowly looking around and exchanging sights with Rymora - she’s confused just as I am. I decide to peak in the quest room, but find even more questions along side with surprise sparking on my face - Lena is sitting on the edge of the coach dizzying if not shell-shocked, with a bag of ice on her nose, strapped around her face with duct tape and a vague trace of blue blood coming from her covered nose on her mouth…In any other situation I’d laugh over the hilarious way to hold the ice, but now I’m actually scared a bit. Who did all this? What kind of monster managed to defeat HER?! D͡o ͝no͡t ̛in͜fl̸at͏e ͜an̸ ȩlȩp͞ha̛nt from ̧a͘ ̛fly͢.̴ I ̸di͠d͏ i̷t̕ ̨on̢ce, ot͢h͡ers ͝c҉a͞n do too͡

_“Uh…S-somebody tell me I’m hallucinating right now. I’m right, am I….? Am I? ….походу нет. ”_

I mutter in disbelief, worried. T-this has to be a delusion! But unfortunately, it's very real and troubling. Delusions does not reply back with moan, holding her head with a hand. ‘Fear is weakness leaving the body. Doubts are destined for the weak. Cold head and determination to live another day is the only way out of this fuckung mess’ - That old quote from my days as a human waste just came to mind. I hear Raymora knocking on Erin’s room door, saying something charming in her own language. Or maybe she’s swearing like a shoemaker.

Okay, just to be sure. Mate, Slap me - argh. Bet̷ţer?͡ Rrgh, nope! Still seeing the same. I return in the corridor, take my shoes off and partly clean up. I find a paper list and slowly pick it up with interest. Nothing on one side, on other - oh. It's a letter. 

_Happy Splatoween, my little squid! Are you staying fresh and celebrating with friends? You never told me about that girl you live with. I hope you’re happy...I really do. I write these letters and I know you read them, but you never write back. I know you still hate me and wish to be left alone. It's my fault everything happened….I’m a bad fish! I’ve ruined our family, your childhood. I don’t ask forgiveness. I just want you to have a happy holiday._

Signature in the corner: ‘Sincerely with love and sorrow, your mother’.

Now I understand why she desperately avoids any mentions of her mother and be rather to do anything else than think about her. Sounds like a business I should not peek my tentacles into...But I think I know what happend: Erin got the letter, got so pissed off, she wrecked the place and sent The Green Terror herself to chill up. Less̸i̕o̸n̷: ͢ne͏ve͡r und͢ere͏st҉imat͏e̶ ath͞leti̡c sl̸utş. She isn’t. Welp, let's see if I can do something about it. I'̨l͝l̕ pu͡t ̴a ̵c̸andle͏ ̛f͢o̧r̢ y̛ou̴,͟ ̶s҉uic͟ide h̢um̕a̕n.

I walk to the locked door with Raymora standing there not knowing what to do. I point out a kitchen direction over my shoulder and tell her to fetch some tea and wait there. Once she’s gone, I close my eyes for a moment and with a sigh knock

_“Erin, it's me. Can you open the door?”_

A faint lock clicked from the other side and moments later the door opened. And here I reach a new level of ‘now I’ve seen everything’. She stands before my eyes in a seducing bunny suit ripped straight from playboy magazines: translucent stockings, white ears on black tentacles with traces of natural ink color on the tips, white and cotton-fluffy tail reinforcing already sexual buttocks. Latex on her torso smoothly emphasizes all the bends of her body. A sight to conquer any man...except details that ruin the mood and give up her ruined mood: A sheaf of faux white fur just above the chest were ruined by tears coming from her cheeks and red, wet eyes. She tried so hard to look stunning, and now she’s crying. But one little thing sets me off more than her tears - she’s smiling with a spark of excitement in her eyes.

_“Rick!”_

...and her painfully familiar tone of happiness and excitement she uses all the time. I couldn't react properly and she’s already ramming me with a hug. Oh, сука...quite a strong one! My hands wave forward by inertia and squashing my bone challenged spine, but moments later I react and hug her in return. On one hand I should ask her if she’s ok and want to talk about what happened. But my guts - o͜r͡ rat͜h̕er͏ ͝M͞E͏ ͝a̸nd sel͞f̛ ̴prese̶r̛va̴ti̢on i͢ns̕t̴i̛nc͟ţ - suggest me to take a diffrent aproach.

_“I see you prepared a suit. And it looks lovely on you! Going in a raid for candy, aren’t you?”_ I ask with a fake giggle, smiling and trying to look cheerful. She raised her head and smile

_“Trick or treat, octoboy!”_

I gently wipe off her tears, looking at her smile. I know she’s hiding her true emotions. She probably knows that well, that's why she...rrgh, hugs so hard. I won’t drill into her personal life; I won't ask why she only opened the door to me. I. Will. Endure. Ye, I’m the multi tool hooker, walking sex dispensing weeping jacket and bla-bl-bla. In my book it's better than being trapped alone in your own life time prison and slowly going insane, dying from starvation in the environment where everyone wants you dead or worse. I hate drama. I hate getting caught up in drama. Do ͠I ̴lo̢ok̵ ̷l̵i͜k͘e̡ ̴I’m͝ çom͘p͡l͘ain̸ing o͝r moc͟k̡in͠g͠? ͏Ju̡s̕t ̸D҉O͠N’̴T̨. P͡i̛ss he̴r off. But if that mean I can flip off my ptsd and help someone - sign me da fuck up.

I made a decision. I pick her up as some kind of princess. She gasped with a surprised look, staring at me. I say quietly

_“Ok. Here's what we’ll gonna do - You calm down a bit, we’ll go say hi to your ryling friend #1 in this apartment, drink some tea with Lena and discuss what happened here. Sounds good?”_

She smiles and touch my cheek with her hand, rubbing it

_“You’re too kind”_ She giggled a bit with a sigh. _“Is helping others your hobby?”_

I was about to put her on bed, but that question stops me, looping inside. Helping...others? Uh. If you count ending their misery as helping, then I guess she’s right. Ki͏l̨l̵i̧n͡g̷ ̵=̧ helpin̷g? ̧You͡,̵ ̕huma̡ns,͡ aŗe͘ ͠w̵ei͟rd.͝.. No idea what fly bit me, but now I’ve seemingly turned into the embodiment of wise and respected grandpa calming down naughty kids. I don’t show it but they have no idea how super fucking weird this feels! But it's pointless to deny - I care about Erin - Oh, ̷I w̸on̸d͞e̵r w͜h̷y… Shut your pervert mouth, would ya!

Clocks are ticking. Tick-tack - tick-tack. Splatooween is closer with every hour. Erin is back to normal, Lena got her first aid, prepared tea supply is depleted. Raymora is on her way home with some sweets as compensation for this unexpected situation. But I think she understands that our celebration is ruined. I got used to that, but them - I doubt it. But since no one wants to take the situation under control, I do it myself. 

I've been convinced to take a seat on the coach, have a drink and vent all shit out. Any normal person would call this a good thing to do, act as a MAN! Pff...we’re talking about human looking evolved fish with ruined moods. I call this awkward and weird. Uuuuugh͠,̶ yo͞ur ͡c̴ut̨e a̡n͏d r̵oma̢n̴tic ͠e̛n̷vi̡ron͢m̷e͝n̢t ͢is͟ ̷b͏ooo̡o͞ri҉i͟i̢ii͢i͠ņg! I ͝wan̛t TUR̨F!͜ ̕I ͏w̛ant to ̕spl̢at̛ s͝h̵i̢t!҉ ͘Wa͞it͝in̸g ̷i͝s̵ ̸a͡ c͞yan̢i̶te. You’ll get your dose of high octane action soon. Now shut it, I’m working!

_“So, Lena. How about we start with you”_

She turned her face to me with unease, thinking with pout lips shifting from left to right, twirling the mug in her hand.

_“Uh...Where should I start...Ah, to shell with ya’ll.”_

She took a long sip, dividing the mug contents by half. Then she stares at the mug, as if she stares in the mirror with sorrow on her cheeks.

_“I’ve been orhan for as long as I can remember. Adults said one day someone just left me near the orphanage door in a food basket, covered in old ragged rags. Was my mother homeless and did this to give me a chance for a better life? That's...what I believed in…”_

She shrugs with a pause. Me and Erin remain silent. Probably a minute later, she continued.

_“I never had friends there, always had a feeling like I’m not belong among others, like I’m wrong. I was bullied, made a scapegoat and by the age of 16 I decided to run. Made my journey all the way from New Sardine to Inkopolis-”_

I feel an inner urge to interrupt her with surprised facial expressions. I can’t resist it, I feel curious myself.

_“N̨e͠w͘ Şa̸rdi͜n͠e?! ̵Th͟at̨s̵ i̵ts̡ t͢he ҉o҉th̡er ̶s͠ide̷ ̕of͠ ͘th͝e G͝reat Sea!͟ H̨ow̨ ͠did͠ y̶o͠u.̛.̷”̡_

_“I didn’t run unprepared, you know. Part time jobs and planning did the trick. Now if you don't interrupt me again, I'll continue.”_

I visibly zipped my mouth with a tentacle and after girls muffed giggling she continued. Go̵od ͢p͞uppy͝, h͡e-he-̷he….Shut it!

_“I made my way into Inkopolis and got kidnapped by octolings”_ She raised her hands and shook her head as a short pause, making me raise my eyebrow with interest. 

_“I admit - that was on me. A wrong fish in a wrong place at the wrong time. Then things got fast and dirty: I got dragged into one of their bunkers - cities in Octo Canyon, got imprisoned and interrogated in ‘medium style’. What happened next I describe only as a real lucky chain of events. I managed to escape, somehow bumped into squid sisters on their agent duty...Honestly, I didn’t even care about their popularity or idol status. I was glad for rescuing me. That’s how I became agent 3, got this apartment and a chance in my life.”_

She finished off the drink in her mug. My mind compares her story to all interactions we had, her words I remember. Many things start to make sense now. But there’s still a gap that requires explanation. And right now I have a perfect moment to ask a question.

_“I see, bu~ut that doesn't explain why you hate them...And octolings.”_

Erin raise a finger: _“I thi-”_

_“No, I’ll say it myself, Er”_ Lena interrupted Erin’s attempt to do something. Seems like she’s about to say something really nasty.

_“Things went from good to worse real quick, but it was too late to say no. I’ve meet with legendary capinal Cuttlefish and after that they send me right into the suicide mission with no training. ‘Help us save Inkopolis’ they said. At the start it wasn’t that bad - remote outposts and training grounds with minimal resistance. I was a good Turf fighter too, so I was confident about myself...Right until I witnessed the first sights of octarian society.”_ Her eyes lock on me with a cold stare of disgust.

_“ I was shocked and terrified when I saw it with my own eyes. How you, males males, really enjoy abusing your power and treat girls around you like slaves and frontline meat. Brainwashed by goggles and propaganda. I managed to shut off the goggles on one girl…-”_

Her face twitched with creeps. Remembering all this brings her discomfort. An͝d ̵I fee͞l ͢sham̶e̴ fo͝r ̵our ͢spęci͢e͢s̸.̛

_“...I still remember her confused look, that dizzy movement and horror on her face when she looked around, only to find her splattered bodies and me. Just a minute ago she was one of the soldiers with all focus on following the orders. and now its a terrified innocent octoling, crying and sitting on the knees begging for mercy. I...I need a drink.”_

I slowly fill her mug which depletes real quick. Erin remains completely silent, but her face tells everything one needs to know - she feels sorry for her friend. Lena continue to uncover her past:

_“...And from that moment each day got harder and harder. Not only because I was tasked with more and more difficult tasks alone...I-I knew that I’m going against hypnotised slaves with no choice, but to obey and fight. It’s kill or be killed, no splatting, no respawns and evil smirks after getting opponent's face divided in_

_half by Inkzooka. I splat them - they die in agony and suffering….”_

She looked at her hand with frightened eyes and negatively shook her head.

_“You know the rest - propaganda multiplied my efforts and turned me into some kind of cthulhu, I defeated and captured Octavio - single tentacle mind you! Two years later I met Er as our new agent and trained her. Also I started to notice an influx of octolings. I disliked them, even felt paranoid from time to time. To make things worse quite a lot of them recognised me; they were afraid. But there were some brave ones. They...thanked me for shoving them the truth and liberating them. Was it because I broke the chain of command, stopped brainwashing and forced them out of their tin can bunkers? I never wondered to ask, always felt awkward to even hear them treating me like a hero after all I’ve done. As for Callie and Marie…”_ Heavy sigh and another pause. Then she looked me in the eyes and, uh...

_“My limbs are drenched in innocent blood; I stole their zapfishes to cause desolation and chaos. This invisible war turned me into a monster they wanted despite, An idol of hate to unite the revenant in society and keep that sweet warm King throne. And squid sisters took all glory for themself. Public talked about mysterious agent 1 and 2 doing their work to protect us, while in fact they never helped me in fights, never done missions for me~”_

With every sentence she became more and more aggressive, focused and cold as an iceberg trying to contain the volcano within itself. Her voice is starting to crack like a broken gauge meter, going faster and louder at an alarming rate. Please don’t kill me for that...

_“...into this war I won for them! All they do is yelling commands with smart ass mugs of their faces and spend their sweet ass time under the sun…. Soon, after I recaptured Octavio and saved that stupid Callie from her hypno shades obsession by breaking them to shell she got kidnapped LITERALLY EVERY SUNDAY, both of them called me for the meeting. I arrived at the place, thinking they finally want to apologize for not helping me at all or discuss something important.”_

Then she slapped her knee with frustration, her already unstable tone exploded with curses. I keep it quiet, cus at this point she can role play ‘doom’ with me being a demon! .͞..̧So ̶st̢ress̕ed, ͝you’͟r͘e̕ ̕makiņg͝ ref͘ȩrenc͠e҉s ̛a͘g͞a͏in͜?͢ ̴Si͢g͞h̡

_“I’ve found them making out! Just like that! The whole point of this cod damn meeting was for two lesbians so I quote: ‘Reward our favorite agent with what every squid desires most’. Call me unfresh all you want, but tell me this first: Since WHEN every kid, teen and adult in this COD. DAMN CITY wants to have a private hour with you, you spoiled, ungrateful rich bitches?! You made me even more self-contained, traumatized me indirectly and gave me alcoholism!”_

She bent her arms, clutching shaking from angry fingers with a mug surrendering by crashing in her hand. Any random passing fish wound calls her insane right now. 

_“Fuck. Them. Both. That was the last straw and I left the Splatoon. Did they care if I cried alone, how many times I had depression from nightmares and why I’m acting more and more like a violent monster octarians saw in me?! No!”_

  
  


She stands up and tosses the mug right into the wall with obvious results, then aggressively proceeds to pick up her jacket, wallet and footwear. I...am speechless. She throws an angry stare at me

_“Happy now, Rick?!”_

_“...Uhh….W-where are you going?”_

_“In Plaza to get wasted! And beat the squid shit out of someone that isn’t you!”_

I’m out of words, blinking with open mouth as she jumps out of bed, yell at the wall and then stare at me for a moment with death intent readable in her movement. But then she grinded her teeth with anxiety and took her clothes off right in front of me with speed and rudeness, as if those shorts and old home T-shirt were to blame. She completely ignores me and Erin while she change clothes and loud and angry door slam on her way out. She’s decimated me without laying finger.

_“..It’s my fault.”_ I finally squash some words from myself and get up. _“͏..͞.̛I̢’m gonna ͟g͘o͝ ta̷lķ t̡o̧ h͏er”_

_“No!”_

I only take a step off the coach and already receive a push forward from squid latching on my neck with her two tentacles wrapping around it with a strong choking grip. She’s dragging me down on the floor like jockey, while I grab her tentacles and try to remove her, painfully gasping for air.

“A-a~iir-agghr!”

_“Weeee, squid domination!”_ For fuck sake girl, what's the deal with your mood swings?! My face burns and I fall back on the couch with my back slightly bouncing off. Erin shifted on my chest with unholy haste and turned back to human form, staring at me with slight giggle

“ _Your face is so red and cute)”_

_“Maybe because you tried to c͢h͟o͡ke͟ me and now squeaking on my l͡ung̶s with your ass!? , I’d appreciate having some ribs right now…”_

I wheeze at her with anxiety. She blushed more with a single ‘oh’ and raised herself up a little. I calm down and ask:

“What was that just now? One of your highlights of crazy behavior?”

She giggles and corrects bunny ears on her head.

_“M~maybe”_ The way she stretches that first sounds like flirting. I semi close my eyes with visible disappointment, but she continues..

_“Seriously tho, Lena needs some ‘me time’ to vent. She’ll be fine.”_

_“...can’t say the same about unfortunate victims of dating her fists of fury.”_

And we both share a moment of silence. She lies on me, turning back to squid form. It's odd to see her in black color with bits of natural yellow on the tips of her tentacles, but that’s how ink works. I look at the ceiling, thinking...out loud or not.

_“̷.̨.̸.Why͡ ņo̵t ruįn ̴t̵he ̡h͡ol͡i͢da̵y s͞p̸i̕r͡iţ be͏y̡ond͞ rep͘ai͢r ̢b͡y h͞ear͘i̷n̕g ̧s̷ome͢o͞ne͘’͡s e̵ls͢ę ͡t̛r̨ag̴i͢c backstory͏…Ruin yourself, mate. First Raymora, nowLena. What next? We gonna make Erin cry again by asking her backstory? Oh, that’s a really good idea, Asshole!”_

_“W-well, I only share it with close friends. So if you’re willing to listen..”_

She replied awkwardly and quietly. Wait, how did she- oh, Fuck! I blush in shame and cover, realizing that I just talked out loud. After which I turn my head to her, unsure what to say. Shall I listen to her or it’s enough skeletons in the closet for today? With a heavy heart I ditch the decision to her:

_“I leave the chose to you”_

_“Ok then. It all started when I was only 12. I had a good childhood, loving parents but then puberty came in and things got unfresh. You know how it goes: ‘ancestors’ talk squidshit, you want to be the freshest kid around and you have emotions instead of brain. I made a bad company, began to miss school. Gosh, we did all sorts of naughty things back there - stealing, bullying, painting walls, convincing adults to buy us a drink - you name it! But, our demands were getting bigger and we started venturing to Plaza for more mature types of entertainment. First sex, drugs, we even managed to get caught in gang fights.”_

_“Sounds like a dream life?”_ She faintly smiles but it quickly shatters as her tone dive down

_“It had consequences I blindly ignored. My grates and school reputation took a blow, I was brought back by the enforcement department(aka police) couple of times; I came home in late hours and my relations with parents sinked hard. Quarrel, swearing, yelling and blaming each other. And then, out of nowhere they divorce. I felt like I’m living in a vacuum. How did it happen? Why I can’t see my dad anymore? But after talk with my grandma - Great Zapfish bless her soul - I came to horrific realisation: I’ve entirely missed the growing divide in my parent's relations. I started to blame myself, thinking I’m the culprit that caused it._

_By the court verdict I was left with my mother and it was a devastating experience for both of us. I kept my contacts with my father, he’s doing just fine and we’re on good terms. But my mother...Despite all my attempts to do something about her depression I’ve only made things worse. She blamed everyone, even herself; got hooked up on food and those TV serials. She looked less and less like my mother. I was angry at her and went breaking bad as a stupid way to punish her - same old company of bad squids, more drugs, alcohol and new experiences. I’ve found out that I like girls just as much as I like boys and that only doubled the fun we had. I knew this was wrong and I should focus on studying, but I was already trapped in that loop of pleasure._

_And then my grandma passed away._

_It was like a really cold shower while you’re sleeping. It snapped me out, turned off something in me. I stared at the mirror with disgust. What kind of pathetic child I am? And my mother - she’s even worse. She developed a passion for drinks ands, quitted her job and started disappearing in Plaza just like I did once. That moment I remember what dad used to tell me, cut off my tentacle and tossed it in her face, packed my things and went to live with dad. Ever since then I have never met my old friends again, never took any drugs or stepped in Plaza. I’ve changed...not without help of course. Affection to drugs and illegal substances were replaced by lust for-”_

I interrupt her

_“W͢e̶ get it. Continue.”_

_“Right. Around that time I’ve got in contact with Marie or more like stalked her through the drainage system and got recruited as Agent 4 - yay! And then-”_

  
  


_“͝L͏et͜ ͝m͞e gues̸s̡, ̡if ̛yo͘u d͟o͏n’̴t͜ mind int͞e̶r͢rup͘tion”̶_

Rude. And she discontentedly puff out cheeks, crossing her arms. But̡ wi͠t̶ho̷u͢t̕ a̧n͟y repl͘y͘,̕ ͜s͢o̶ I’̸lļ ̨take͘ it as ͜y̧es̕:

_“But you were hooked up and had no will to keep yourself in check. So instead of doing your cod damn job, you spend time acting as traveling free of charge squid slut with desire to degustate all pesky toys you can find. It spread the rumors, but no one took notice cus we were too busy getting extinct by Green Terror and Salmons. Lena caught you red limbed, and trained you into a solid shell raising agent that still could not defeat Octavio when he escaped and captured Callie in order to brainwash her like other females in our freedom sucking society. But thank cod - the agent 3 herself did your job just fine…did I miss anything?”_

_“...um, nope. That's pretty much it!”_

She finished with that honest happy smile of hers. Talking about mood swings. She just had to relive her past, talk about her mother and now she’s turned back to normal in under a second?! Lucky me: crazy ass got adopted by even more crazy girls. Why do I feel strange relief?

***Meanwhile somewhere in Inkopolis. Point Of View - Helena***

Time - 23:32. Inkopolis Square shines in distance louder and brighter than usual with Squid Sisters and Off The Hook doing their usual crossover splatfest concert. Streats felt empty and quiet. She could’ve stayed, shrug it off, stretch smile on her face and save the holiday. But breaking her nose and this open talk about her past as a kid with no knowledge of love, treated as expendable pawn by idols made her too irritable and lustfull to vent some personal hate on someone. So she did what hero would do - an unwelcome and judged, but necessary action with a emotion burst. In any other day she’d just grab the pan and beat Rick until she calm down or someone stop her; but here’s the funny thing - she could not do that anymore. They decided to be friends and she didn’t care about this whole ‘A copy of a human mind controls my body and I’m kinda brain dead myself’ situation. He look like an octoling, act more or less like a good fish and speaks fluent inklish - more than enough for many sealings this days. It was a step in direction she should’ve taken months ago, when she decided to take him under his wing. But it's better late than never

Unlike the majority the of ink-capable population, Helen marched in Plaza, taking occasional sips from a bottle and keeping her headphones up and running with trusty mp3 player and rap, written by one famous team - Sea Lords. Don’t let that name fool ya, it's just another bunch of assholes from rank X - the very top of the competitive ladder almost exclusively filled with the most toxic squids dancing on the edge of the knife. For them Turf War lost all fun or meaning as a game. It's a war for ratings, money and superiority over others with no tactic being too dirty....as long as their reputation, money and manager can hush up some ‘not exactly legal’ things. 

Knowing all that she still liked the song. She thought it was something inspirational, motivating. She even singing along some of the lyric when no one were watching with half sober tone, joy and rhythm pleasuring her ears: 

Don’t need perks when I rank up dude, my

Roller swinging both ways, like a goodbye

If that went over your head, this won’t

My charger never misses - It just don’t

If unfreshies want advice from a god

I’ll give ‘em hint a runnin’-gunnin’ splat bomb in the jaw

I used to be a non believer just as well 

Till I took a look in the mirror and I saw myself

And then I realised I was on another level

Obligatory Hell’s conductor reference - METAL.

_Fists clenched and I’m gonna ink punch ya_

_I’m drenched in it, after I’ll splat ya_

_From my head to my toes I’m all covered_

_Rattle with what’s left of your teammates and ego_

_I’m one shell of a sucker - ink - puncher_

_Won’t rest till I send ya’ll to respawn_

_Super Jump away I’m coming to hunt ya_

_Burying your victory-_

Even with headphones she hears the distant roar of multiple beasts, rapidly approaching. She went quiet and passively turned around only to see a group of bikers driving past her, probably a gang or just enthusiasts having fun. She notes them in her mind and continues her walk of loneliness. Just like before she ignored any and all contact with sealings passing by: minor conflicts motivated by racism and envy towards inklings, drunk bastards, loud youth. Eventually, when she tossed aside an empty bottle in just one district away from Plaza, her partly drunk mind saw something on the wall.

Fresh in both senses, graphite on the black wall of the firefighter department. She wouldn’t even pay attention to this typical shenanigan of whoever did this, but the image was something out of ordinary, intriguing enough to make her stop for a minute and take a closer look. It was an image of white crowd full of humanoid silhouettes with strings attached to them and the Turf War HQ tower with no Great Zapfish on it. The strings go up and warp themselves on the top of the tower. Below the crowd is the message written in octarian language:

_Man have failed._

_The theories disproven._

_NPC is our inevitable existence..._

......

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	6. Part 5: Strings Of Tension

**_The day the world died_ **

**_They disappeared_ **

**_Past concrete cages_ **

**_Their voices speak_ **

**_The wheels of conflict_ **

**_Still creak and guide_ **

**_After the world died_ **

**_Nothing was learned_ **

**_And the future’s a fog stretching endlessly_ **

**_All our hopes have long stumbled in the dark_ **

**_And the shadows of home is but a memory_ **

**_They still haunt us but they can’t pull us back_ **

  
  


The second day of Splatooween, high noon and a chance to freely roam around the city without a female escort. I see some sealings in costumes here and there, much fewer inklings than usual. Traffic lights block my path to the other side of the street, and I unwillingly eavesdrop on the by-passers conversation:

_ “- ...Nah, bro. Fucking cod knows who might be under all those layers of grim and clothes! And I really don’t want to pin some hot looking catgirl in the corner and then grope someone's balls under the tail.  _

_ \- Well, if our nixie cat talked, he’d said that lack of balls does not always indicate one’s gender ^_^” _

I cover my mouth to muffle a giggle and walk past that friendly acting sharkling/urchin pair. Cossing the road, I make my way straight in the Inkopolis Square. No intention to stay there, but I might pay a visit to our gunrunner rayling or grab a refreshing cocktail. Maybe only the cocktail, considering the amount of trash and jellyfishes doing the cleanup plus labor ground dismantling performance stage. We’ve missed the night party and it makes me sad - I haven't even had a proper holiday for decades! Even this one got eradicated by personal drama with all my chances to have some positive venting out with a mocking slap of a door on their way out.

Almost all shops are closed due to the short working hours during the holidays. At least Crust Bucket is up and running which means the time has come. I come to the food truck, make an order and take a seat at one of the circle tables with chairs and an umbrella for customers to enjoy their lunch. The moment I come near, someone seems to recognize me and I hear even gossips catching occasional looks in my direction which makes me feel uncomfortable. I’m not used to such attention...

_ “Won’t you mind if we share a table?”  _ Argh, speaking of the devil _. _ Some girlish voice beamed behind me. I close my eyes for a moment to look calm and reply with a nod, stretching my hand forward in a welcoming manner. Two stranger girls joined me, both inklings and one of them dressed up like a Count Dracula. Wr͠on̛g̛.͝ ̵I͠t’s ͠Coc͘k ̡Bl͞o̸ck͟u̡la. Pheh, good one. Right...uh. I bet they are around Erin’s age; looks cheerful. Let's keep it that way, while I wait for my order.

_ “How are your days going, girls?” _

_ “Super fresh! The Splatfest opening party was a blast! Oh-oh-oh, you’re that madfish octo with a bow! I played against you a couple of times and saw your games.” _ The blo̵cul͠a squid widely smiled, creeping me out from inside. ...Uh, I can’t remember splatting any of those two before. Her friend talks:

_ “I thought that the bow was just a different kind of bamboozle joke. I didn’t believed that stupid fish-” _ She smirked

_ “Hey!” _ ‘I gave an offended’ friend giggle and lightly struck her friend with an elbow.

_ “-Well, she said she was wrecked by a bow-wielding octo. Is there some kind of secret in using such a vile weapon?” _

Her last words boiled with an unhealthy tone shift on the word ‘vile’ and interest in the subject. She slightly stood up from her chair and bent towards me across the table intentionally or not revealing her black bra under the hanging shirt with a couple of unbuttoned buttons on the top. I’ll pretend I’m that stupid and fall for it by staring at her breasts, but first I have a question:

_ “Why didn’t you ask me earlier then?” _ I raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

_ “We would if we had a chance”  _ Her vampire friend drags her back into the chair. I repeatedly nod, muttering:

_ “...Make sense.” _ I take a pause and shrug and then reply casually.

_ “The secret is quite simple - you just use it wrong.” _

_ “.....oooh?” _

_ Sigh. I̕nk҉l͢in̴gş.̛..St͡upid as ̷always. ͢E̢n͘teŗt͘a̛i̵n̢m̴en͏t a̡n̡d̸ o͜b̢s͞e̴s̡sion̴ wi͡t͏h̴ f͜as̕hi͘o͟n ͘- that’s al͢l ͢t̡hey ̴d͜ǫ. We both know it’s not true and you distract me from conversation. O͞h͝ y̴ȩs̷, ̨h͟a̴v͜i̕n͠ģ a҉ ̡c͠asu̧al ch͞a͜t̷ w͢it͟h ͟tw̸o ̶i͘nk̨l̛i̴ngs ̷that̷ o̴b̵vi͏o͘u͘s̴ly ͞desire̡ ͢a bo͠y͜ f̷o҉r̵ sp̵i͞n̵ ͟f͝or̕ ͠a fai͢r r̸eason...͜Ok͝a̷y̧, m͏ayb̕e ou̷r uni̕so͟n̕ ҉o̡f͞ ͟cơmbat ̵skills ͡and bo̕w̷ p̡roficien̨c͞y̛ ̵ha̢ve t̵o̧ d͝o͏ s͏o̕me҉t͡hi̢ng ͢wi̧t̸h͏ ̧t̵h͜at̡.̨ ̶W̢e҉ are҉ g͜ętti҉n͝g̶ r̵e̛cognised am͢ong T̵urf̛ ̸W̵a͜r͏ c̨o̡mmuņit͟y̡ a̶f͏ter ͢al͢l͏..͝.̧ You done? I don’t want to sound like dick a.k.a you, but - Fi͠ne ҉-̴ ͜f̸in͝e͢...̷j͢eez̵! ͏Pȩrs̶on҉al ̵s͞pac͝e, ̵I̷ ̴get ̨i̵t͝. _

Be me and appreciate the casual talk with locals. A͘n͢d̛ s̶ḩa̸re͞ y̶ou͝r ͝d͢i̕s̵ori҉enti̛ng ̢vi̵s̶iơns w͏h͏il̶e ͟y̛ou̵’̛re ͘kn̵e͝e ͞d̷e̸e҉p ҉in ̸tripp͘i͘ng ̨balls̶ o̡n ͢a r̡a͏nd͞o͝m͡ ͠ta͞n̡tr̨u̧m ̷o͡f̢ ͢in̕s͠ąn̡ity͡?̸ ͡Ah͢, bitch,͘ I’̛m͡ to̵u͘c̶he͘d! B͝ut ͡I͟’ll gentl̛e ͘r͠epl͢y i̷s̢ ‘̢fu̵ck̨ ̨no’...Litteral Asshole...U͡n̸lik̶e ̴c̕er̨taņ ̡other͏s͡ I don’t͟ ̷w͜h̵ine t͜o ot̸ḩer̷s͟ ͝w̨h͞en͡ I’m b͟u͢rsting̕ ̧i͢n ͏su̷d͏d̸e͢n p͡hy̴cop̴a͏t̵hic ̕lu̧st̢ ̡t͟o͝ ͏k͡ilļ, ̵b͠r̡ưtalis͢e̢ ̛and̡ rape͟ bec̸au̷s̡e̷ ̨of ̨my en͞tir̢e l̵if̢e̵ s̴pend i̛n ̡u̴n͘heal̷t̶h̸y͢ en̶v̛i̷ron͏me̛nt with ȩx̛tens͡i͡v̕e̛ b̢r̢a̸inw̢ashin͘g̶, ͘r̸ep̴ea̷te͟d͢ r̛a̧p̕e and̨ k͘i̷l̸l͜i̛ng…͠!!! No͏w͘ adm̢it̢ it̛. What? That you enjoy the talk with those two too, even two both of us barely follow the conversation. Uuuu͝u͝uugh͝….̛nev͜er ̶m͢i̧n̶d͢.͏..J̡us͠t fi҉nis̢ḩ ̴th͠e ̢d̛ri̧nk ̡an͢d͜ ͜g̴i̷v͞e̵ ̕th̨em ̸some whin̨e ͢h̷o̡ne̢y o̸f ͟y̕ours̛. No. 

Nǫ~̨?!̵ Th-̨w͢h-...̴W̵hy̨ n̕o͠t̨?! It’d be wrong to use others for things like that. S̕pl͠at͘ y͞our ̨m̶or̕al͠,͝ ͢o̴h ̴ri͝g̷h̨t̢eo͏u̵s͢ o͏ne.҉ It͞'͢s ̧j̵ust̛ ̨ą ̵fu҉cking̨ ̶thr͝eesǫme w͟ith ͜tw̢o ra̸nd͡o̶m,͏ ͜g̨i̸r͜ls ̡yo̵u’v̴e ͡f̡ound ̶o̸n͢ ̷the̷ stre͡a͢t͞ a̵n͜d no̷t͏ ͠Pląz͢a. Ju̴şt a͞cc̷ep̡t it ̛a̷nd̶ for̢get͢ yo̧ur ͏old ͢hum͘a͏n͞ ͟id͜e͡a͘ls.͜ N̶o ̧matt̡er ҉the ̸s͠i͟mi͟laritie̸s ̢this i̕s̵ n͘o͢t̶ y̕our̨ ̸w̸orļd ̷anym͟o̕re. Perhaps..

_ “I just remember something.”  _

_ “Oh, what is it?”  _ The girls lit up with excitement.

_ “Ever heard of Dadf1sh, or Dedf1sh? Ugh cod, I don’t remember how they’re called.” _

_ “Uh, duh. [One of them replied with surprised tone and raised her finger] Its Dedf1sh and she’s da best!” _

_ “She?”  _ [Her friend objected] _ Girl please, it’s obviously a boy. Probably hot and young~” _

_ “Again with this?  _ [She rolled her eyes with frustrated groans] _ Quit your wet fantasies, there’s no way in shell they're a male!” _

_ “Why not! H-he’s just shy-!”  _

_ “Or she’s ugly and an unfresh fat salmon, he-he!”  _

_ “...Or this is a human hiding their identity.”  _ And here I am stopping their escalating argument with a seemingly distant and emotionless response. Both girls stopped and turned their attention to me with a confused gaze.

_ “Wha-” _

_ “H-hu-human? Pff, don’t say nonsense, those primitive creatures have gone extinct lo-o-ong time ago. I’ve learned it from the exhibit in the Shellendorf Institute” _

I slowly shook my head in response, looking in the eyes of the fish that just called me a primitive.

_ “Primitive? Really? Well, that's one way to insult us…”  _ I mumble to myself.

“Excuse me?”

_ “I’m saying that humans would not be happy to hear ‘that’...” _ I can’t help but voice my displeasure with their view towards us, using fingers to show quote/unquote when putting extra focus on the last word. One of the girls casually points at me with a finger while holding a fork.

_ “You should visit that exhibit if you haven’t done it already” _ My displeasure grows into a muffled frustration.

_ “There’s nothing to look at. Old and rusted junk beyond repair, bones of a kid playing VR and common assumption that this is an adult doing some ritual. Makes me laugh in tears.”  _ Before my temper goes out of control, I should change the subject.

_ “Back to undead Daft Punk - slash - human theory. That could explain a lot: a suspicious selection of music, hiding identity and no public meetings outside concerts as far as I’m aware. Call me crazy, but that all seems too odd to me. A ‘Dead’ ‘ Fish’ playing music of the dead civilization... I’d like to see them in person.” _

_ “Oh, that’s impossible.” _ One of the girls said, waving her hand to add weight to her words. Her friend added:

_ “Yeah, they never do an interview or have any contact with fans. Plus they often do concerts in Plaza and no offense, but you’re an octoling…” _

I lower my eyes and put my fingers between each other, thinking

_ “..back to social octo hating bullshit. Sigh, damn it. Well, that sure complicates things. A zone of danger and sudden death” _

_ “Well, not so sudden and dangerous if you stay away from sharks and urchins” _

She sounds so reassuring, but I wouldn't be so sure if I w͏e͞r҉e͠ h͢er. Sigh, I͘ ͟hate ͡to ̵a҉d͞mi̛t i͘t͠, but we gonna need girls help with t͠h͞at̡. 

“I’d rather stay away from inklings. No offense, but some of your kind are so fucking salty.”

_ “Phah! You haven’t seen asshats from Rank X then!” _

“And we _ can help you with Plaza, if you ask ‘nicely’”  _ suddenly one of them says with no normal tone, attracting my attention...I semi-close my eyes, diving into my thoughts.

_ “Are you reading my mind? _ [They giggle over it, but sigh with disappointment and continue with a bit more distant voice]  _ What kind of dirty job are you expect me to do?” _

_ “Um.. _ [They gaze at each other with short confusion and shrug] Dirty job? Ohh, did you had some hard work _ back in your home?”  _ Their confusion turned into two pairs of gazing eyes directing at me with curiosity, making me think harder and actually remember my assignment. I painfully exhale.

_ “Electrical engineer, maintenance division in sector A in Underground…[I take a short pause and rob my chin with a frontal tentacle, while looking in the sky. Cod, I really need to address my haircut] Not the wisest choice in h̴i͏s life, but- ” _

A double, almost synchronized gasp followed with confusion and even more curiosity dancing in their eyes and voice interrupting me with a loud beamed tone

_ “The Underground…?! W-wait, do you mean Plaza’s club or your octarian bunkers?” _

I shake my head and gesticulate my hand.

“Y͏-y̕e-̛y͝e̕a̕..̷.y͠ou͡ c̡an ca̴ll it a̸ b͜u͡n͝ker. _We were working overclock every day, repairs, checks and testing._ [I take a pause and faintly smile for a moment, looking back at the girls. Judging by their reaction that was kinda creepy.] _That reminds of a fun little moment we had one day._ _Me and crew were doing our maintenance routine. Many of us had protective gear, some of us didn’t._ [I point at my face with a big thumb for a moment] _With this face the gas mask never came off. Went perfectly, flawless….well, until one of us caught a mental break down and bit the cable he tore apart with nothing but his teeth. No one knew who did it. Our crew shouted out like their mama were ringing a dinner bell.”_

…̶҉҉͈̹͙̳̤̮̝͕…͠͏̭͕̩̝͔̱̦̝͠

He put palms on the table, confusing them with his cold and way too calm voice. Both girls still smiled and looked interested, but in reality it was all just a show to befriend him.

_ “Ever seen a man dying from high voltage? You can tell the ones who were lucky: one gentle handshake with an invisible hand of a thousand Kilowatts and they drop dead with their heartbeat resting in zero. We watched him for a full minute. No screams, no pain; just a monotone buzz and flickering lights-.” _

Initially they’ve taken it as a joke, but when they noticed his complete absence of response to them, describing some increasingly gross and unfresh bollocks with a cold monologue, just like their literature teacher. This octo was rapidly losing all his attractiveness and interest in their eyes. Both girls started to whisper with each other about what should they do, they even repeatedly clicked their fingers right in front of his eyes, pull one of his tentacles and bitch slap him, but he kept talking like a broken radio with no intention to shut up... revealing more and more gross moments of the horrible event he was reliving eternally with a disgusting description of details. 

Out of options, with a mix of worry, disappointment and disgust they’ve left him be. They had bad luck finding a boy, but they weren’t that desperate to stick around with such loco. Yes, male inklings were in deficit in general and some girls considered octolings as second grade. Remove gays, those who already have girls and the only ones left and ugly nerds and unfresh losers. Well, better luck next time!

…̶҉҉͈̹͙̳̤̮̝͕…͠͏̭͕̩̝͔̱̦̝͠

_ “-It stood still like a soldier, twitching with its eyes wide open, teeth clutching the cable with dead grip, face already going in flames and veins swelling from pressure. They look like animated puppets...Trapped by their biology and pretending to be still alive, begging for rescue... burning from the inside with blood boiling in veins till there’s nothing but a charred skeleton with freshly burned meat that looks like coal, till you cut a slice….Oh, that smell of well done cooked meal is so tasty and wrong, makes you hungry and confused…Now I want steak. Big, fat, meat steak...” _

I inhale and blink with satisfaction on my lips

“Damn, now I want a stake….uh, where’s the girls?”

“T̵h҉ey’re ̵g͜o͢n͝e”

“...ah.  _ Eh, whatever..”  _ I reply and shrug so casually, one might think that I don’t care and to be frank, I really don’t.

*** Sometime later***

Walking alone is uh, unusual. It makes you look at things you’ve never noticed or ignored before. No one to keep your attention, guide you, and occupy you with chat. Free roam in a sea of inhospitable fish. All those different species from human-like to mind-shattering abominations, each unique and have it’s preferred job in society...with only two of them being the closest representation of humans in terms of appearance. And they have ink - a mandatory thing for Turf War. And that makes you wonder: why i͠s̛ ͘it ̴th̢e͏ mo͠st̶ p͞o͠pul̢a͞r ̧sp̡ort͠?̧ Exactly! I bet many would want to live by playing the game, but they are forced to work for a living, because they've lost the life lottery. And that leads to anxiety and envy….

Sigh. This city is no different from ‘International’ or other cities of our time. The city is full of shining lights and opportunities. But when one settles in, after they take their time to taste the insides of local life, disappointment comes. Among the alien crowds and closed doors with faces judging you for their reasons one feels lonely, ordinary, helpless….useless. I don’t like that feeling, it reminds me of my time as a test subject, rrgh. Same shit, now with a brand new sushi taste. 

T̕h͠e̶ ͞w͝h̛o͏l̵e ̴sp͜ec̢i͝es job̧ seg͞ŗe̕g̸at̨i̵o͘n ͏seems ͘p͏o͏in̴tles̷s ҉to̧ ̸m͟e. ͜We, o̵c̡t̴arians can͏ do͝ ͏ęve͡r͡y̧thing̸ w̷ith ͘e͝n͘o҉ug̶h t̕r̵aini͟ng͜. ͏E̷ngi͘n̵ȩer̕s̢, m̵ed͡ic̸s̸, sc͢ie̕nt͡is̕ts...She͢l̷l, ̵a̴t̕ leaşt҉ ͢in̵ tha͡t͢ ͏reg҉ard͏ ͘we̛’ŗe҉ one ͜step ahea͢d o̧f ̕t͞he͡ re҉s͞t̶ ̕of͠ the w̛or͠ld͢.̛ No wonder why. Flexible human-like body with extra limbs and regeneration. I bet it's more about your independence from other species. But here...I’m pretty sure that bullshit segregation has its own benefits and majority seems to be used to that kind of racism. It's everywhere: A crew of builders and engineers exclusively filled with jellyfishes; sea urchins on police patrol or whatever local law enforcement department's now called. Too many jobs have a species with unfair advantage over others. Not a good nor bad solution, all depends on the point of view. And I ended up on a bad side with no way to apply my knowledge on practice and be useful! Y̶ou ͟c͢an ̵be ̕usef͘ul if you͟ ̶sta̢rt payi̧ņg a͜t̡tentio͟n͝ t͏o ͡y̷o͘ur͜ s̵u͜rr͡oundings̵. ̶W͢e͢’҉re̷ pa͟s͡si̷n̢g ̛n͡e̡r Pl͘a͟za.

Ugh, thank you mister GPS, but I know where I’m going. Some narrow-minded idiots won’t scare me. Don'͢t͝ be ͠an͜ o͡v̶e̶r͝con͡fi͠d͞ent ͟g̢old̕f҉i͏s͟h̷ ͞͞You're a ̕fu͘c҉k̸ing oc͞to͞li̛ng ͏and ͏t̸h̶e̢y͝'̴ll ̶eat ͠us al̷įv̵e̶!҉ ͢An̨d ͘that'͏s ͞M͝E̶ tell͡i̴ng҉ ͏y͡ơu, agh-! Some passerby bumped into me with force and walked by.

_ “Hey!” _ I call them with frustration, but there is no response. What an asshole….

_ “...what ink trash’s doing here…?”  _ I turn round trying to remain calm yet the moment my eyes see a pair of bunny ears growing from octarian head I back off with a surprised gasp. A dumbo҉p̸us with a pa҉ir̨ of coc͞k ̢su͟ck̕i͢ng̡ i̴n͡kling̸ pu͘s͢sie͠s̨ looking to make some holes in us! Wh͢at͠ di̵d͝ I͠ tell͜ ya͝ abo͡ut̵ ҉NO͜T! Doing HERE?! Rrgh, stop thinking like me, it's distracting. I quickly inspect the male bunny - octoling in the center of this trio and raise my eyebrow.

_ “What do you want, an autograph; a hug?” _

Whoever bypasses us decides to ignore the situation. Inkling on the left clenched her fists in sinister grin:

_ “You ventured into the wrong turf, octo trash.” _

How creative. I used to hear that insult from Lena on a daily basis, and being beaten. So far I’m not impressed by these punks. I reply casually, gesticulating with a hand

_ “Oh, I’m sorry. I haven't seen any ‘no octolings’ signs here.” _

_ “There will be when I’ll personally shove one in your ass with neon sign specifically for you, fucking eight limbs twats.”  _ Said another aggressive-looking chick. My face spasms in a single twitch, eyes looking on the one, who said that...

_ “̸.̴..w҉i͏ll y͏ou ̨no͘w? Go ͞o͡n͏ t̨he͜n,͠ d̡ǫ yo͘ur wo͟rst̨.͝ Bu̕t̴ d̡o͢n̡’t͠ ͏beg̸ for ͞mum̶my͞ ͡wh͝en I͡’̧ll ̛rip ̧o͞ff you͝ŗ ͝a͡ŗms,̧ l͟e͞g͡s ͏a͏nd te̸nt̢acles͘. On͘e. B͏y. Onȩ.͟”̛  _

….And replying with a dead cold tone, taking a slow step forward with murderous intent. I feel my fingers twitching. Both Inklings shivered for a moment, clearly didn’t expect that, but their companion seems more confident. He stopped me by poking his finger straight in my chest with a disrespectful tone, irritating me.

_ “Your threads are pitiful at best. All of your octolings are egoistic and a damn disgrace… Looking at you makes me sick. Who do you think you are to come to this city and pretend you can be one of us?” _

Boy, your hentai looks amazing and I can tolerate your bullshit, but pocking my chest with a finger?!You’re playing with a madman here! Ok. Ok̶! Ok-ok-ok.. Just act calm and don’t think about it. It’s nothing, he-he-he. It’s just a finger poke, nothing else. I’m overthinking things. He-he, yes overthinking for sure. Oh cod, just hold it together, h͟e͘’̸s̢ NOT….H-he’s not… 

_ “...that's a good question....” _

_ “Eh?” _

_ “No really. Who am I? Or rather ‘what’. Am. I? I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll answer it for you: I'm a corrupted copy of whoever I was... [I shrugged with a faint smile]. Quite poetic isn’t it. Pretending that I’m one of you?You’re not my kind of person… _ [And finish it with a cold face expression]  _ Funny.” _

Pure honestly and calm look can be shocking. That octo remove his dirty finger away - uughs, gross.

_ “Yo, this one is crazy…” _ inkling whispered with concerned body language to their octo boss, I presume. Hm...

_ “You don’t say!” _ I interrupt their little word exchange by dropping the act with a poker face and pointing at the octo with my tentacle.

_ “By the way. If you hate octolings so much, why stick with an octoling? ”  _

Both inklings gasped and grinned their fangs with anxiety - something I didn’t anticipate. Octo in the middle froze with one eye wide open, staring at me with his bunny ears twitching faintly, like a sinister beacon attracting my attention.

_ “I think you’re just two girls desperate for a boy and ready to follow this octo mate. Speaking of you, Umbrella Co. with easter egg cosmetics  _ [I point at the furiously looking octo]  _ One don’t have to be a biology expert analyzing someone’s shit to tell you that we’re the same species, like it or not. Having six interconnected tentacles looking like an umbrella and bunny ears don’t mark you as-” _

His face exploded with red colors and a pissed off grin. Next thing I see - lightning fast right hook to the cheek and I fall on my knees, almost going on free fall spinning on my way to kiss the asphalt. And here comes the pain, sharp, unwelcomed and as always late. Some by-passers gasp and notice our little misunderstanding. Those two associates inkling pull out brass knuckles and moving out of my sight, ready to backstab me with some punches. I adjust my right front tentacle and look at him with raised eyebrows. Th͟e͡y̨ ̧eas̡ily g͟et҉ tr͏i̸gg͏ȩr͏ed͠ ̸if ̨y͟o̢u e̕qual͠i̵ze the̸m ͡w͞ith ҉octo̵li͘ņgs ͢cu̧s ļets ͏f͠ac͘e ̶it̵ - ma͝j̛o̸r͝ity do ̡i̴t ̕all the t͡im̡e͠. Yea, thanks for not saying that earlier. Inhale. Exhale. 

_ “I. Am. Not. An octoling! I’m dumbopus, you fucking pink-colored TWAT!” _

I roll my eyes with annoying moan   
  
_ “First: Splat yourself. I didn’t choose that natural color! Second: that's racism and rudeness. Third-” _

Yet he completely ignores my suggestion and waves his hands all over the place, looking mad and walking in circles spitting bullshit. I hope it’s not contagious.

_ “Racism? Racism?! What do YOU know about that? Who started the Great Turf war because of envy? Who’s responsible for cuttlefish genocide because they didn’t wanted to be a part of your EX empire?! Do I need to mention how your kind went on full extinction of hornopi species and all slightly different looking octarian hybrids you deemed as impure heresy!? ...Your kind is cancer. You’re cancer. Both in this city and turf. The government may tolerate you, but we don’t! Go back to Octo Valley and rot in your bunkers!” _

He pressures both physically and mentally me with aggressive monologues fueled by honest hate and emotions. All bark, no bite. But I’m out of options to leave - I’m surrounded by two armed inklings. I was wrong about them. Bypassing sealings got touched by his emotional speech, gathering around us and forming a cycle, cheering him up and trying to shame me with yells and swears.... Could’ve shoved me in inkling’s body for fuck sake! I don’t understand the reasons behind all this, nor I care to understand. He might be right, but to me he’s just a loud fucking fish with two chicks kissing his ass. This whole situation corners me in a pinch. If I won’t do something, I’ll be pressured and dominated by the numbers, possibly killed! Oh no...I’m not going to be slaughtered by a bunch of sentient food!

_ “...oooooooooh, как же вы меня забеали…! А НУ ВСЕ ЗАТКНУЛИ ЕБАЛЬНИКИ!” _

I yelled out as loud as I could. I’ve tried to hit the breaks and end this peacefully, but I guess violence is the only option left! So̧ thąt͏'s̶ how y҉ou, ̵- h̶um͘a͞ns̸ ̡-̕ ̴t͜e͝ll̶ ot͢h͢e͟ŗs̨ t̵o ͞S͏TFU͢.̸ ̸No͏te͟d. Aaargh, shut up, fish, human is working damn it! Now that they’re silent, I can solve this irritating situation.

_ “Oh, for fapping out loud, your bullshit drives me insane!”  _ I demonstratively say it in a tired tone while rolling my eyes and letting my arms fall down with my shoulders, dangling from lack of control.

_ “Let’s do it your way, DUMBolings. Did octarians steal your beloved Great Zapfish to power up their menacing Great Octo Weapons and wage war because REASONS? Perhaps. But if so, then please explain, WHY is that piece of logic-defying flying air-breathing sentient FISH is still UP THERE….fucking me over with MY field of work and skills I spend decades to develop?!  _ [I give up on my vocal cords as my voice plays flappy birds going up and down] _ Genocide and extinction? Heresy?! Bitch please, it's called ‘stability’ and ‘great national victory’ - typical stuff for a civilization to do. All this is a history, things of the past. If this is your reason to discriminate against an entire species and not those responsible...Then I feel sorry for you. I really do [Short pause] Because you’re dumb..” _

I catch my breath with angry breaths as the crowd goes quiet. It's hard to describe their reaction, but that one racist octo looks like a teen overcompensating for something and throwing a tantrum at everyone. Or so I think. He’s angry, pissed off, and willing to fight, but someone from the crowd says something, which triggers his attention away from me.

‘He’s fucking right..’

‘Hey, that not fucking fair. Your kind can play turf!’

‘And what if I don’t want to play it? What if I want to beat fish in uniform for a living?’

‘You’re inkling! Shut up and play turf!’

“That's squidshit!’

‘If we’re speaking about squidshit, then let’s not forget those over-pumped bottom feeders!’

‘The fuck you just mumbled about my glorious biceps, you spiky cyclops wanka?!’

‘What a bias behavior coming from a species of rage free slaves-’

‘Hah, stupid shark!’

‘-And one eye smugglers overpopulating law enforcement..’

‘Oof, burn’

‘Oh, go fuck yourself, inferior single-minded mammals. My kind do All hard work in this city’

‘Oh, look who’s talking. Literal hivemind work addicted genderless medusa!’

I take a couple of steps back with worried face expression, ‘distancing’ myself from the crowd with palms. Sealings argue with each other with rapidly escalating loudness of their progressively aggressive voices, throwing complaints and insults. and tension. Things going physical, air stinks with tension, breaking out into a fight. To think that they were supporting that octo just a minute ago, and now he fights with them. I need to leave this place, before they swallow me in this mess.

H̨e̴-͝h͡e.͜ Wh̵o͏a.͏ ̸Boy, y͝ou̴ ̕h̡av͘e a ͢t̕a̸le͏n͟t͘ ͢for̛ star̕t͠in҉g ͢ra͟ci̢al͠ ̧wars! I’m not proud of it. T͝h̨at w̕as̶ ̛a s̸ar͟c̶asm. ̕Y͡ou̢’҉re ͟d̴isgr̴a͝cef̴ul̕ ̧sa҉ck of ̕s̸hi̕t.̨ Y̨ou͢’͢ve̴ ̛tur҉ned͠ i͘n͟no̷cent͜ shi̛tba͠gs̷ a̕g̸ai͜ns͠t̴ ͢each̶ ot͢he̷ŗ! H͡iv͜e ҉fiv͢e͟! My frontal tentacles hive five each other and I can hear your inner laughter. What’s so funny about it? That display of the social divide is disappointing. It’s pitiful to watch... Nothing has changed. Fish, human - All the same! 

Humans reaped what they sowed. Violence breeds violence, and for death one pays with death. Those who have no doubts and know no remorse will never break out of this circle...Think about it and guess how we ended up as a hollow echo in the wind of history. Yo҉ư c҉a̴n't ̵have̴ a dysto̵pi̕a, ͏R̷ick. J͟u͏s̡t̢ l̢o͜ok͘ at them ͢laugh͠ ͞it̛ ͢o͢f͞f an̛d co͡n̢t̨inue ͘t̡o̡ l͞iv̷e̕ ͟ąs you̧ w̵e̷ŗe. That’s not a solution to a problem. Judg̢ing b̷y͟ ͟you͜, ̛nukes a͜n̷d ̧cǫmp͡lȩte p̶la͡n̢e͏t a̡n̛ni̧hilat̸iǫn di͡d̛n͝’t s͟olve̵ s͢hit eith̨e̴r.̴

I stop and face slap myself with a painful sad sigh. Don’t remind me of that. My hand pull out my phone and I turn in one of the old songs I’ve loaded in from CQ-80, to listen with a small speaker, singing alone as I walk among fish and catch questionable glares in my direction

  
  


_Большие города_ _Big town_

_ Пустые поезда  _ __ __ __ __ _ Empty trains _

_ Ни берега, ни дна  _ __ __ __ __ _ No shore, no bottom _

_ Все начинать сначала  _ __ __ __ __ _ Start it all from scratch _

_Холодная Война_ _Cold War_

_ И время как вода  _ __ __ __ __ __ __ _ And time is like water _

_ Он не сошёл с ума  _ __ __ __ __ __ __ _ He didn’t went insane _

_ Ты ничего не знала…  _ __ __ __ __ __ __ _ You knew nothing... _


	7. Part 6: The masquerade called life

***Night/early morning of the next day***

The window in Erin’s room is open, Helena lies on the fire staircase going above our level, drinking and looking somewhere. I quietly pick out and gently ask:

_ “May I join?”  _ To which she gives a single nod as approval. I carefully climb out and stand with my back leaning against the railings, my attention is on our...ex agent.

_ “What do you want?” _

She asks casually and takes a sip and looks at the bottle’s neck with frustration before tossing it away and grabbing her last bottle, looking somewhere in a distance. Her two long tentacles are warped under her head like a pillow for at least some kind of comfort. And their tips emit faint glowing just like mine. Too faint to be used as a light source in the dark, but look neat. I too take look in distance, saying out of the blue:

_ "Beautiful night, innit?" _

_ "You'll never visit me in the middle of the night just to talk about the weather [She’s judging me with completely calm tone] Get to the point” _

_ “Right [Damn it, why do I feel nervous? I’m not asking her for a date damn it! Sigh] Look, I hate to say it, but I need your help wit-” _

_ “Ask Erin? I’m busy being drunk, lonely bitch”  _

How much did she drink already? She sounds pretty sober but behaves...I turn to her.

_ “Lena, you’re-” _

_ “And before you say it [jeez, she interrupted me a͡g̴ąi̛n. And now with an extra spicy tone, pointing at me] She’s no longer satisfying you, isn’t she?”  _

_ “E-excuse me..?” _ Ok, this is getting a strange twist, thx to her pompous mumble. She sits up and drills me with her dead-serious eyes, flinching from alcohol.

_ “You want me..aren’t you? Admit it! You want it[she demonstratively stretches her legs a side...Girl, stop it] D-d-dirty octo!” _

She raises her tone for a moment but receives only more confusion from me. S̷we̡et.Fis͡h̵ of d͞eath ͜is ̢dru͘ņk̸ ̵a͢ga̶in͠.̨ Sad ̢ho̷oray…I shake my head and step closer to her.

_ “You’re drunk. And no. I simply wanted to ask if you can help me with visiting Plaza and we both know Erin won’t go there even under death threat” _

She goes quiet, looking at me, then at her flask, then back at me and once again at the flask before taking another sip.

_ “Fool's paradise...” _

Her voice sounds a bit cleaner and calmer as she shakes her head. Then she mumbled ‘why’ with confusion. I turn my eyes at the Turf War HQ tower, thinking.

_ “Sho͡w͡ ̧h͟im the ͜o͢the͠r̢ s͜id͝e o͠f̨ I̡n҉k͟opoli͞s̴,͟ sh̢ar͟e͏ a ̷dri̧nk̵ w͞it̴h ̸y̶a [He faintly smiled, turning head back to her with a more friendly tone] M̨ay͝b͝e ҉ca͢u͝s̛e̴ ̸so̧me͘ ͝mayhe͟m͡. Ahem. I just wanted to find that DeadF1sh DJ and get some answers. I’m dying to know where he or she gets that music…” _

I don’t see her reaction, but I hear a single tired sigh.

_ “...You won’t find them in outer Plaza. They’re in inner Plaza. [She stops, seemingly taking a sip of her position, then adds] You need someone with reputation...Someone ruthless enough so no one would dare to fuck with you...”  _

My eyes keep looking down at the streat and counting cars passing by. She sounds tired, unhappy, far from being proud of herself. 

_ “I know you’re referring to yourself” _

She snuffed with a sarcastic ‘yep~’ and took another sip with a faint chuckle. Moments later she asks:

_ “Want some?” _

I turn towards her with a questionable ‘hm’. Her arm stretched, holding a quarter filled bottle. I shrug and take an offer from her hand, give her a smile as I lift the bottle.

_ “Cheers, Lena” _ I say and drink it all in one go then toss the bottle away like she did. Sc̸h͜wein. Learning from the best.

_ “We’ll go to Plaza tomorrow” _

I nod with releath and turn back, looking up at the sky. Clouds gather for a meeting and wind is slowly getting colder. Rain is coming, probably should not stick around and go to bed already. Metal quietly creaks behind me and Lena stands up. I guess she had enough of - wha? Sudden and unexpected thrust pushed me to railings. I feel how she hugs my back, her face leaning on my shoulder. My ears twitch hearing her breath, hands going around my belly. I..uh. how should I respond to this? She never did that before...especially while drunk. And here she is, hugging me as a plush toy. And I blush, confused, a bit nervous and….happy? Happy that she’s hugging me? Jesus fucking Christ Rick, get a grip of yourself! I’m not a teen to go into a panic attack upon receiving some intimacy from a girl that I consider my friend.

_ “Am I bad squid, Rick?” _

Her sad toned question snaps me out of my thoughts like a refreshing slap. Gonna be honest with her

_ "Worse. You're smart. You may act like bitch of a berserk with a gun and distance yourself from others [pause of uncertainty] But I know that under that mask there’s a soft, beautiful girl seeking understanding [I take pause and hear a lonely sob]  _

_ I’m different...like you. I know what it’s like to struggle, be careless and confused yet still going forward day after day because there’s little to no choice and you can't change it. I know how it feels to be powerless, useless...and be used by others for their hypocritical benefits... _

_ Harem of friends won’t make you happy. See happiness in what you have now: a place to live, good food, Turf War and friends. Erin cares about you… I care about you. Not sure about Raymora tho.” _

She hugged me harder, her cheek rubbing against my back. I put my arm on her arms with a faint smile and add

_ “...T-thanks.” _ That's all she said, quietly. It warms my heart, fills me with joy. I say nothing, gently slapping her hand and looking at the night sky that’s getting completely covered by clouds.

_ “It's gonna rain soon.” _

_ “I know” _ She says shortly, not letting me go

_ “We should get back inside” _

_ “..Mmmm. You’re warm” _

She mumbled with a sly tone. I feel her cold hand going under my shirt with a silent exhale leaving my open mouth. Good thing she’s not seeing my face right now, cus I have a pretty mixed feeling that she wants me, but don’t want to say it directly. Or alcohol have turned her into a stubborn kid. Either way I chuckle.

_ “You can keep hugging me in a warm room without getting sick. Now lets go before we get soaked”  _

_ “Don’t get your hopes up.”  _

She giggled. I roll my eyes away with a smile. AA̴rgh͘! ̸Th͏is̕ ͢c͡ute̶ ta̛l̡k͘ o̢f͜ y͘ou͞rs ma͟kes ͜me͝ h͞o̴rne̴y! ̷RE̛LEAS͡E ME!̨ Have some patience, will ya? Just wait till I finish here and you can go fuck Erin in her sleep all you want.

I carefully move my ass back, signaling her to move. The moment she steps back I turn around to get back in the apartment. But she stops me by grabbing my wrist with a tentacle and gives me a short kiss full of uncertainty and confusion. Now we both stand there, brushing in this awkward situation and gazing at each other like idiots. I’m confused and sense tension; she’s drunk and probably confused too. Moments later she narrowed her eyes with anxiety building on her face. She looked aside and release my hand. I remain silent, waiting for her decision. It’d be rude to say something right now or leave as if I don’t care. A hostage of the awkward situation that makes me feel uneasy.

A distant sound of echoing lighting snapped her. We both looked in the direction of nature's warning, after which Lena finally moved and started climbing inside. But she stopped on half way and turned her sight to me, asking: 

_ “Wanna fuck?”  _ ...the most unexpected question with the most casual tone

***One day later***

**_...watching a half-life with the dream to walk a free man..._ **

Sun is going down, hiding behind concrete walls of buildings with glimpses of the light illuminating the car's window as it reaches our destination. Lena is near me, calm and not hostile. Occasionally I find it hard to believe that this is not some sick dream I’m having. The things we done last night...And now going here to help me find answers to my stupid questions? Heh, I’m full of anticipation! But. Just how much time has passed since I’ve escaped the underground? HOW did I escape anyway? Also Helena: when did we become friends? Feels like we were adversaries just yesterday...

Sigh, cod! My perception of time is fucked! Or҉ s̕o̶m̡e͘o͜nȩ ͜i̧s t͝o̸o͞ laz̢y͟ to ̕r͢emem̢b̧er͠ da̵tes. Pff, you don’t know either. Bec͝a͟us͡e I̛ do͠n’t͏ ͘caŗe̛!̴ ͜What̵ w҉as͜ ̛i̕t,̡ ̵hal̶f ̸o͜f ̡th̕e year?͠ ̕M̨o͘r͜e͘,̸ ͡le͝s̵s? ͝I͜t̴’s̨ n҉ot l̢i̧ke y͠ơu͡ ͟ha҉ve a j͟o̸b an̢d̨ ̨tr̛ac͘k of time i͜s ma͟ndatoŗy. 

We slept till after noon, I think. Cod, I bet we’d keep sleeping if it wasn’t for Erin creating another awkward situation, when she caught us red handed sharing one bed, naked and still sleepy after that wild ride we had….and started jumping like a damn kenguru glowing from happiness overflowing her. I’m surprised I’m still alive after that! The embarrassment on Lena’s face as she jumped from bed, covering herself with a blanket is unforgivable. She went back to her ‘friendly usual’ self and we haven’t talked about that night yet. Friend with benefits...huh..

In any way, it doesn't matter. I notice a decrease in speed and turn my head to the driver. Uh..not gonna lie, I don’t like the look of a sweating nervous urchin squeezing the steering wheel with both hands. The guy isn’t a fan of this place for sure, but the job is a job and I’m the one paying. That was one of Helena’s conditions and I can’t argue with that. 

_ “You choose a bad time to come here, mister. Gangs are in a lookout for blood during night and I doubt your disguise will help” _

_ “Exactly why I’m not going alone. And thanks for the warning”  _

_ “No need. It’s your funeral mister, not mine.” _

The driver talks and manages to keep his full attention on the road, ignoring the increasingly chaotic exterior of the streets and fish walking on them. Whores, junkies around flaming barrels, someone just got robbed. A quick check on Helena: she remains silent and looks in the car window. I pull out my trusty pocket mirror for one last check-up: fake eye mask holds up fine, shorten tentacles are still hidden under a cap. Yep, a perfect inkling ready to practice screaming booyah for no reason, piss my pants in anger whenever spot an octolings and bow to the Squid Sisters while listening to their stupid music. S͘hou̡l̡d I ͏te͡l͟l w͜hąt ̢y͝ou ̵t̨hink̶ ̛of̧ s̕q͡uid̴s to ͜E̵rin̷?͏ I’m exaggerating. A͟nd͏ I͟’m ͡jok͝in̷g. Ha.

As discussed before I pay for the taxi as we leave the car. And so here we are - Inkopolis Plaza, Fool’s Paradise, The other side of masquerade called life. Place with a couple of names, but If I had to give this junkyard of society a name, it would've been 'Myseum of Mankind'. We’re standing on the edge of it and my lungs already taste highly concentrated anarchy with each inhale. All bad, crazy shit accumulated and concentrated into this territory of ultimate freedom. No rules, no restrictions. Looking at this mess makes me want to puke and cry in disbelief.

Selling and using drugs, various violence, crimes, killings and rape just behind the corners if not publicly...with kids passing by...and no one care. Even Lena seems careless. I close my eyes for a moment to sigh, then look in the distance and put my hands on hips. F̴eels͘ like͢ ̕ho̶m̛e͡, is͡n̴’t ͡it̡? 

_ “So, welcome to AkademGoяook, comrades” _

__ I say with a fake accent, making Lena stare at me with a questionable gaze. 

_ “Whaddaya doing?” _ She faintly asks and I smirk.

_ “Ah, this? This view reminds me of a scene from an old movie. A character was standing at the cliff like this and gazed at the burning city below that fell in hell. He turned back at his shooked crew and said that phrase with a happy tone.” _

She says nothing, having a visible confusion twisting her face. Suddenly our short reference exchange got interrupted by distant screams and the sound of something breaking out...or in? Hard to say. Some squid punk rushes out of the alley ahead with a bag and a Luna Blaster, shooting back. He quickly hides from my view, until moments later he emerges, pushing the crowd away and screaming in agony as his face was melting from an acid shot. Some random bypassing squid surrounds, grounded and begins to rob him in no time... despite the fact that he’s still alive, screaming and begging for help. No one even stops them, only throwing a short annoyed look for a moment and discarding it.

_ “We̛l̶come to H͘ell,̵ sc͠h̨wei͡n͠” _

Helena turns to me.

_ “Stay close, don’t stick your tentacles in other’s business and keep your shit together. Got it?”  _ She says strictly and quick. 

_ “̷Y͞es̴,͟ ͠m͞o͢m”  _

_ “You’ve been here for almost half a year. I’ve been around even before Kraken and Inkzooka became a thing. Don’t freakin’ test me” _

We make our way through the parking lot. That's quite an impressive amount of functioning vehicles, well organized too. Has to be a gang’s car judging by their similar color pattern and segregation. Th̴ere ͢a̴r͜e e̕no̢ưgh͘ i͡diots̛ w̨h҉o͞ th͏i̴n̕k ̶th͘e̸y c͘a̛n f͜uck҉ ̡w͢it̕h ͠ga̡n̴g͢s͏ or͟ ̡t̶h͘e҉ir̛ p̵rope̛r̵t͠y̡ and get ͢aw̨ay ͘w̷i̛t̛h it. Sh͏arks d͠o͡n͞’t h͠ave͜ ̡to worry a͢b̡out c͞h̵e͜a͢p mea͘t̸ shor̷ta͜ge͟~. Even with that in mind I’ve expected to see broken cars, stripped for parts, decaying in rust, places in different places and used for whatever they need.

Figures blinking in shadows with faintly colors of tentacles and their tips moving like wisps; a pretty mean group of bastards group around some cars with one of them shaking and jumping. Boombox playing music, smell of barbecue makes me hungry and their rap battle makes me want to hang myself. They stare at us as we pass along. Better to leave them alone and simply follow Lena. Our goal is the ex Turf War HQ Tower now known as Inner Plaza with the Underground club located there. That name gives me creeps and I don’t shine with intention to go there asap, but...Sigh, what fly bit me to have an idea like this? The ̧o̵ne th͝at ̵c͏u̡r̨r͟en͝tl̶y leads y̕ou throu̡g̨h̨ t̛h̴e̴ mos̡t ͢v̵i͞ol̡e̢nt͜ terri̛to͝ry̛ ͞o̧f al͝l ̨k͢n̨o̶w̷n ̨t̷urf̸. Ha. Ha. Extra funny….

Remnants of the gates ahead greet us with horrific stench getting stronger. Decaying arches with big metal letters saying ‘WELCOME TO INKOPOLIS PLAZA!’ and an old, colorless poster on the side of inkling girl teens with dulies. Reminds me of soviet summer camps with this...atmosphere of decay going against the grolorous foundation built to last. As if we cared about reasons behind lack of financing when we were kids. This place has its own beauty...and a path laid of dead bodies. Fresh dead bodies. Different flavors of blood soaking through cracks in seemingly old asphalt, mixing in a rainbow factory that follows the flow on the uneven surface in search of the nearest sewer manhole. Does anyone even wonder what happened here? Or why? All I can see is a pair of jellyfish cleaning the mess plague style: one is holding stingray with stretched legs and spill fire, other holds fuel tank. Oh, this smell is...oorgh, smells like fried fish, dust and death. Oh, I'm gonna throw if I stay here for another minute. T͞he̕n ͜shut y͞our nose̸ ̡a͏n͜d ͜k̴eep up̕ w̴it͢h̸ y̢our ̡Greȩn T͡er̸r͠or!̕...Thi͟s p҉lące͠ sm҉el͡ls ͜li̧ke͢ ̵ho̸me.̧.͘.̵I ̴hat̢e̛ ͟home̷. S͞h̷e͡'s ̶wa͘i͜ting̸ ͏foŗ ̢yo͏ų. ̶G̕o̷.̨ 

Since our straight up path is blocked by pyromaniacs and burning bodies, Lena takes a turn towards a dark alley. There are figures doing something in the dark and I’m in no interest in finding out, yet I move with haste to catch up with Lena, coughing from smoke and smell. As I get closer I hear screams, moans and cry mixing in an unpleasant mix of indication: our so called shortcut is...busy for the lack of better word. She hugged the corner and peaked in the dark. 

_ “Whaddaya looking at?! Fuck off or be fucked like this cheating tight slut! Yea~! Your ass is MY property, not her!” _

Female angry voice beams from the ally followed by stronger and more intense sounds of rape interrupted by… a boy...moaning and begging for help.

_ “So much for shortcuts…[I quietly say to her with unese building inside of me.] Rrgh! ̧I’͏m ̨go̷n͘n̷a de҉al̷ w̸i̕th t͠ha͘t o̴b͡sta͞c̴l͢e̸ reaļ ͘q҉uick and̵ ̛ge͠ntle҉.” _

Asshole snatch control from me and intend to kill that girl even though we only see their silhouette. Thats better if you ask me. The last thing I want right now is to see how ugly that gal might be and remember all dirty details inspiring my nightmares for weeks ahead! ‘Меньше знаешь - лучше спишь’ and I intend to stick to that philosophy. Lena quickly pushed me to the wall and shook her head with disturbance on her face.

_ “U...rgh, I mean ‘Asshole’. Get a grip.” _

_ “S͏o ̛m̸uch͡ ̛for hero̡. ͟C͞a͘n’t e̕v͞ȩn͟ h͏e̸lp a̛ ̨sea͟ling̸ iņ nee͘d”  _ He hiss with judging tone and receive a slap.

_ “You know what they say: good intentions lead to death. They go here by their own will. Their problems are not mine. Wish to be a hero? Go ahead, save that boy. No one will even thank you” _

_ “...Rr͘gh Ri̛ck, I really̡ ͢ho̷p͞e͟ ͠y̧our poin̕tl͠ess age͞nd͞a wor͘th ̵a dam͞n, cu̡s ̧I a̴l̢r̕e͟ad͝y want͝ ̛t͘o ͟ģo͟ ͏phy͜si͏c͠a͜l...̧Oo͠oo̵hgh, for c̵r̢y̴in͜g o͠ut f̨uc̶ki̧n͠g ̴l̛oud,͞ C̡AN ̨YO͡Ų ͡PLE̡ASE F̷U̸CK ͠Y͢OU͏R ͜S͏EX ̧SL͘AVE M͞O͜RE̶ ̢Q͜U̷I̴ETL̶Y?̨! ̢I̵ R̕E~EAL̛LY ͟W̨A̡NT͢ T͏O͞ ͠RI͞P ̧Y̴OUR̶ ̷TH̷RO̶AT ͘IN ̴HA̵LF̨ R̴IG̴HT NOW҉!” _ Asshole moved my head and an angry yell at the asshole in the alley. I feel awkward, even Lena widen her eyes, staring at me

_ “Go fuck yourself, blockhead!” _ Came in reply. I regain control and shrug, hearing inner mumbling. Lena twisted her face and slowly shake it

_ “....Octolings...” _ She said with a sight and let me go, then moved away from this mess.

This smell make want to puke my guts out and awakens my hunger; those bodies...Oh, fuck that fucking couple. Because of those two I have to smell all that shit and stare at Lena’s magnetising sick ass as we cross this damned streat. Do̢ you ͢w̸a͜nt to͘ wa͟l҉k͟ w̡it͢h a̸ bon͞er o͢r͝ ͞tum̡ble̸ d̴o̷w̶n in y͝ou̶r fuc͡ked͝ u҉p ̡me͠m̵o͘rie͢s?!̵ Sto͝p͘ ̕th͏inkiņg͝ a̕bout y҉o͜u̕ ̡kņow ̶w̧h͝at͟, ͘mo̴ve ͞y͞ou̴r͟ ̶a̶s̸s ̛a͡nd l҉o̷ok a͜t ̸her ̢ASS!

Streat of burned corpses distancing behind us and life rolls in upfront. Street of the dead shifts into a street of...everything! Distant screams, deaths, cars and anarchy. Hookers, robbers and drunk bastards inhabiting roads, some throw and sleep near walls. A gang car rushed past us with sealings laughing and drinking as they stare and get out of the windows. The car itself drags a corpse with a rope around their neck and lifts on the dust. 

_ “Humanity at its finest….” _

I drop one liner with a dismissively disappointed tone, spreading hands and looking at all this with misunderstanding, disbelief. No form of control or restaintment. Freedom to life and die as you desire. Makes me wonder and compare. What's worse: Order like in the Underground or freedom similar to this...

Lena says nothing and keeps on going towards our goal. With all chaos, dirt, crime and abuse around I feel tensed, worried. And the fact that we’re still in one piece brings me no relief. Not a single motherfucked even dared to get near me or Lena. Even armed psychos, and gang members with overwhelming numbers keep themselves away from us, staring at me with anxiety and whispering something among each other, rubbing their weapons. This...ain't about me, isn’t it? Or...No. No-no, just don’t. It's not worth thinking about it. 

***Around half an hour later. Near Inner Plaza entrance***

_ “Are you kid or [burp] a squid?” _

This tropical-betta-fish is tripping hard. I look at him just like I’d look at the idiot with confused disgust raising more questions than common sense.

_ “That's the most stupid question I’ve ever heard” _

_ “Pff, brutha!...Thats th..Tgh…Oh fack...-cuse me! [He shambled aside and threw on the floor. I partly cover my face with disgust and take a step back. Then he somehow stands back up and looks happier than before]...oh, sorry brutha! Thats fucking...fucking...What are we fucking? Who Am I fucking?” _

He’s so wasted he even forgot what he’s talking about. While Lena is busy and I have some patience left, I’ll be polite. P̨u̶s͢s͞y

_ “You were asking a philosophical question”  _ I say with a vexing tone as I roll my eyes away from this drunk wreck. Why am I even continuing this conversation?

_ “Oh yeA! That fuckinng phil...or soph? How was it.. again? Ah! The logical question, y~o. Are you a kid or a squid?”  _

I regret my decision. Fuckin̕g sh҉elll,҉ R͘ic̕k.͢ ͏Let ͟m̛e ͟pu͟t͜ ͜u̕s ̧o̶ut͟ ơf̨ t͟hi͞s mi͟se̢ry̡~ You aren’t helping. The͝n l̵et me!͏ Yeah, smashing poor fish’s head against the lamp post ‘really’ gonna help the situation. 

_ “I’m not really-” _

_ “You’re kid now! You’re squid now! You’re-[brup] kid now. Sign with me, brutha~!” _

He started singing some shit and repeated it over and over! My eye starts to twitch with frustration and rising suggestion to break his face. And it sounds more convincing every second I spend hearing this drunk fuck acting like he’s on Talent show!

_ “[Sigh with eyes rolling ] Som̷e͘body̵ sp͠lat ͘me..̶.” _

I clench fist and punch this drunk weirdo with annoyance. K - the fuck - O. Sigh, this place and holdup we keep bumping into are getting me on nerves. That fuck couple blocking our way, getting caught in a middle of a shootout and now waiting in line to get inside the tower. Oh, I regret coming here, but we’re knee deep in shit to turn back. The music inside is so loud I can hear it even here and I like the tune. To be quite honest, this street and tower looks similar to Inkopolis Square, even in this decayed state. Shops turned into dirty bars, slutoon houses, backdoor exit for bodies: splattered, ripped apart, beaten to death or bearly alive. I know there used to be an armory with practice range and training grounds. Think it's the Illegal Turf War? May҉b͘e̷.͜ H̡ea̧rd̵ ͏about t͢h͞at͘ shit̢ ͝ba̕c̷k͝ in ͠a d̡a̛y҉.͢ Ea͏sy ͜mo̶n̵e̷y͠ ̢o͝r̨ ͢eąs͢y҉ c͢of̸fin f̴r̛ee of c̶h̕aŗge. Hm...Let me guess: no respawns, military grade ink tanks with enough pressure and to tear limbs apart and punch holes in bodies PLUS mixed with gravel for extra damage? Wh̨at ̢a ͟sma̡rt̨ litt̢l͠e bo͜y!̢ ͘Ha̵v͟e͠ ̵a̛ c҉ookie. Jeez, even Tartar had limits! 

Our turn is almost here. Fish go in, fish go out and guard on face control filter any unwanted sealings that try to get inside. Armed for the teeth with designs you don’t see in Turf War. Drunk or high gets rejected. Finally it's our turn. Lena takes a step forward and looks at the guard. That armed fish looks at me, then looks at Lena, then back at me with something on her mind. 

“ _ Miss Ahako, welcome back...Is he with you?”  _ She pointed at me. I cross my arms and keep my mouth shut. 

_ “....”  _

_ “Aight, I get it. Have a good time” _

Lena silently steps inside. For a moment my eyes follow her, then I blink and snap from a surprised stun. Yet the moment I take my step guard stops me with a hand. Sigh leaves me, tired semi closed eyes shift right and up, staring at the guard with one. Obvious. Question. No, I’m not gonna say it. I’ll just punch my way inside if she won’t let me go.

_ “Listen buddy. I’d be a good boy around her if I were you. You don’t want to see her when she’s hopping mad~” _

I refuse to comment on such poor pun with poker face. Her face tho..It went from teasing to serious in under one blink as she adds:

_ “Seriously buddy, she’s no joke. She’ll rip off your balls and shove them down your throat faster than you can say ‘wommy’.”  _

Castrating me after seeing who she really is AND having sex? Pff, press X to doubt. But they don’t know that. I bet they see her as a ruthless badass. I relax and smile, lifting her arm like a barrier and go inside while giving up a faint smirk and teasing response.

_ “~Woomy~” _

At last. We’re inside and the first thing that meets the eye is a huge board placed specifically so no one could miss it. ‘ _ Know DA way and read wee foking rules’  _ written on top with questionable grammar. Pl͢aza ͞AND ru̧les̵? He̷re̷sy͝~̕! Quiet you. I’m surprised just as you are. But this is supposed to be a place for fish of culture and not complete psychopaths. Lets see…

_ “No mindless killing, no public sex, no stealing and mind your own business. Keep that in mind and you’ll be fine. I’ll be at the bar getting tipsy.” _

Helena loudly explains ‘da rules’ in my face in an attempt outscream the music and leaves me at my own disposal in favor of drinks. It's even louder than outside which should not be surprising but still. Too loud. I think I’m gonna have a headache if not bleeding ears. Probably should start with a bar too and get some ‘load’.

As I make my way through corridor music picks up volume and temp even more. Can’t think properly. At this point I simply follow the signs and people. Or am I following that feel of rhythm and beat attracting me towards the source? Turn to the left, go straight, door to the right, staircase one floor down and walk forward till you see a big red double door. And enter it.

A big room opens before my eyes. Bunch of sealings go party hard on dance flow as if there’s no tomorrow; a small bar at the corner serves drinks and cocktails. The circle pedestal with various devices and speakers stands in the middle, like an altar or a statue with a DJ dancing and working inside all this. Some kind of shy freak in a black costume and biker helmet. Can’t say for sure if it's a male or female, can’t even be sure what race hides behind that helmet with led powered faceplate visor which displays different emotions. Suddenly music volume finally dies down and slows down. I make my way towards the bar, take a sit and order something strong by gesticulating hands. Jellyfish bartenders get into work, but keep an eye on me. 

_ “And what brings a lost sheep into thy halls of unfreshness?” _ it asks in quite an interesting manner, mixing cocktails. 

_ “Lost sheep?” _ I ask in curiosity which is distracting me from thinking.

_ “Grim face, confusion in thy eyes. First time and don’t know what you want?” _

I raise my eyes and look at the bartender

_ “Reading me like a book, aren’t you? [I briefly chunkle as I shake my head] Guess that's a sign of professionalism.” _

_ “Sir, are you sure you don’t want to change the order? Your order is indeed heav”  _ They ask me with concern, but I bet it's just a way to get under my skin and make me spend more

_ “One cocktail won’t kill me. I came here for answers anyway.”  _ I say dismissively.

_ “At the bottom of the glass? Heh, your funeral, sir”  _ They say with friendly tone and deliver my order 

_ “Funerals? Hah, please. I’m already a walking ghost. And much obliged” _ I faintly smile and take a sip. Oh, that bittersweet fluid going down my throat with a hot trail of disgust followed up by a good feel going down inside like a waterfall.

Music picks up the rhythm once again. I take a turn to see the show and DJ dance there...Then here, then there...? Wot th- shifting around and standing on the tables, dancing; just punched a fool that tried to reach them. I- I shake my head in disbelief and look at the glass I’m holding before looking straight at the show. Am I hallucinating right now? N-no, it's real. I’m not the only one seeing this and visitors are reacting differently. Who’s surprised and confused like me, that guy seems to enjoy the show, the other two are too wasted to care. I shake my head and slap myself in disbelief. This isn’t some light show. I’d know. And there’s a particular detail in my full attention: electric trails and static consistently mimic DJ’s position as they shift around the place. Teleportation. So far I saw only ONE type of fucker with that property - sanitised octolings…huh. Deadf1sh...Dead fish. Fish looking for death...is it?

Forcefully shake your head and snap this shit out with a long sip of cocktail! Don’t be RICKdiculous! Look at their movement, how free and unrestrained and accurate they feel. Precise teleportation...and it's all perfectly following music’s rhythm. One thing is for sure - this is the one I’m looking for. Yet, whoever is hiding behind that helmet is too alive and active to be sanitised. Should I be happy about it or tremble in confusion? It might be human. A real deal, unlike me.

For some reason the track starts to slow dow͞n̴ and sounds more...ruuude. Is it just me or everything gets slow and gets only louder a-and annoying? Owooo~. I feel...like I can conquer the world! Bruh, who’s working on music here?! That shuffle of sounds, impossible to comprehend! Music turned into vomit of sounds for surface slowpokes...I mean humans..!..Aarrgh~! I MeAn -meanme҉ąnm̡e͠an...no mean? I don’t mean. Who does it mean? Oh. Humanity on the fucking unicorns, what the fuck am I thiiiii̡iiiii̶…...owo?! Suddenly I shake up with a shivering impulse going down my spine. I feel dizzy, like dizzel...or whaewa. My head is spinning like carousel...Carousel-carousel, storytelling begins~ Oh cod, I still remember that child show song. Ffffuck I’m old.

Anyway all the way. I’m not feeling go- I mean bad. Something is wrong with me. The thoughts I'm having, the thighs I see-. I see faster! Hah, everything looks so funny, so slow and bright. Oh, look. Look at them! They come to this place, when they know they’re not pure. Shadows. Dancing. And having F...what ? Fun? Yeah~ Yes-yes-yes. FU-n! Maximum fun! Maximum fun for ALL~!

Rrgh. N-no! There’s rising tension in my chest. It burns. It burns as my heart follows the music beat. My fingers squeeze in a painful crackle like a bending wood. I try to get up, but my legs feel like jelly. Ooh, my͘ hea̢d̷~! Is this drugs?! Did he…?! Ffffiuuuuuuagh,ha-ha-HA! I’m a king of all lizards! Give me more catnip!! S͝T͢OP ̧it!͟ Temples pulsates in the painful rhythm. My guts are squeezing and twisting themselfs. My vision is getting blurred...I- see blood dipping on the floor. My hands are melting. A flood of feelings wash all the logic. A thousand glass shards hurts my eyes. My hands rub them. Suddenly. My eyes twitch as I hear the violent violet playing. Everything stopped. I feel nothing. I hear nothing. I want to scream and panic but my lips are tired. All I can do is listen and watch

Bartender is gone, dancing people are gone...everything is gone! Only vague shadows remain, driven by the violet’s melody. My body flinches in convulsions, my mouth feels dry. I can’t stop this...I ̢d͠on’͘t w͢an͡t ͘to. Listen. Listen closely. I r̡e͢m͏em͘ber ̷th͡e m̨us̸ic that played when I d͜ied̷….My twitcing eyes latch on shining figure in the distance playing it. No words are spoken yet I feel its desire to escord me.W-why..? To where? For a moment I smile like a child, but then words painted in horrific whisper escape my mouth as my body twitches

_ “T-tha̡t m̴u͏s͞ic. ͏It͢s pla̛y͢i̵ng ̛ąga͘in͠…!͝”͞ _

Sudden flash of light and the pain washes me away. I squeeze and grind my teeth in muffled moans. Buzzing in the ears. Do-OH! Aa!….aarghh~! Did I just get hit by a truck in my cheek?! Oh, fuuuuu-hu-hu-huuuck. I’m gonna throw. I’m doing it. I’m throwing and - rrgh, receive another crash accident, this time in the stomach. I grin and moan in pain, twitching in my own weakness. Inhale, exhale. Breathe, keep it together, think about something distracting. My entire body itches in anxiety and exhaustion. Gonna slowly lifting my head and peak around, gonna see what the fuck is going on. Obvious guess - something bad happened. 

_ “Hey-hey-hey! He’s up. Rise and shine Mr. cocksucking octotrashling!”  _

Some pompous goon just mocked at me. I flick from yet another punch. I’m so trashed, I can hardly feel it now. Where am I anyway? Spit the blood and look around. Breathe. Ok...okay. Some kind of big luxury room with huge windows, three assholes armed and ready to kill with blaster and dualies. Familiar DJ in black suit with a helmet is also present here, standing near the table and leaning on it with their hands. I can’t move, so I look down to check...yyyeah, this is bad. 

_ “..w-wha happened? Where am I? Why. Am I...!? [for a moment panic burst in and overflows me] сухопутные моллюски-переростки, ВЫПУСТИТЕ МЕНЯ!” _

As much as I struggle both vocally and physically, it only results in a chair I’m tied up to dance and annoy my ‘guards’, which looks a bit confused and more willing to splat me out of this life from what I just said. DJ clap their hands and track everyone’s attention, then stench the hand towards the nearest muscle bag without moving their head for an inch, drilling me with their look through the helmet. One of them chuckled _ ‘Sure thing~’  _ and handed over his blaster. Then DJ aimed at me. Silence covered the room. Guards just stand there, watching, that fish isn’t even flinching...like a statue. And the distance between me and them is just enough for the shot to kill me. Tension is rising. I’d pray for a miracle, but this isn’t some low tide gun used in Turf War. I’m experiencing a plethora of emotions right now, staring into the black face place of death with ‘owo’ emote on it. I close my eyes. Just make it quick...

Two shots. Scream and sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I open one eye, then the second one as I stare at the peculiar scene. Two guards have fallen and are bleeding out as a lifeless corpse with an inked hole in their head. The one that gave DJ a gun fall on his knees, shocked and panicking

_ “Whoa-whoa-whoa!! Boss! Boss-bo-bo-ss! Calm down! J-just tell me, wha-!” _

His stuttering begs stopped. Splash of ink drilled his eye out and his body hit the ground. Then silence. I stare at this bloody mess completely lost and confused! For crying out, life! Hold the fucking sea horses and give me some explanations! DJ toss the gun away

_ “Expendable trash with wide mouths. Words travel fast here and I’ll prefer if we’ll have a quiet conversation.” _

A muffed, cold woman's voice breaks through that helmet. Alright, it speaks and it's a girl. Maybe it's my chance to clarify what happened. 

_ “W-what mistake? What wwwas in those drinks? Who are you and where am I? Where’s-?!” _

I clench my will and spill out of my thoughts one by one, but she raises a finger and puts it near the helmet, practically telling me to shut up. Should I even mention Helena? It might get her in trouble, or perhaps save us ass again. Agent to the rescue...Sigh.

_ “We get to that shortly. But for now, I think an introduction should be made  _ [Her hands go up under her helmet and unzip the harness as she takes a pause]  _ As one said: Mind is a harness-” _

She takes off her helmet, then takes off the black balaclava, shocking me with one. Big. Fucking Twist….God, I hate to be right! Seeing my mixed reaction, she faintly smiled and finished the line that cannot be forgotten.. 

_ “-I have rejected the harness. The name is  _ **_Ahato Mizuta_ ** _ , more commonly known as DJ DeadF1sh. Nice to meet you, Richard Streletskiy.” _


	8. Part 7: More than just business

The point of no return is growing nigh as your half-life reaches its climax. Songs and poems said everything that has to be said. What you chose will define more than you can imagine. 

This...is discouraging, impossible….unbelievable. By all means I should be jumping on a place like Erin and crying from happiness. Should I? I gaze at the impossibility or rather another fact that humans like rats and roaches - always find a way to survive. Was Tartar wrong by predicting our immune system bringing our demise when contacted by the new world? I’m in a complete loss of words, just staring at her with my mouth wide open. She’s a human. Just like that. A real, breathing, human with a shaved head and unimpressed face expression, staring at me.

“Surprised? Jellyfishes are not the only species with expertise in translating dead languages, let alone speaking on them” 

Her words laid out in perfect english with a faint smirk leaving her face. And now she’s inspecting me while I’m too busy comprehending all this. No reply from me. I got nothing to say because oh my god, it's a human! Yet she phrased that as if she isn’t....Odd...The amount of questions I can spit in her direction gives me a headache! . And she simply takes an empty glass and fills it with alcohol from the shelf on my right. Moments later she breaks the silence

“I know you’re shocked and have questions [She takes a pause, sipping from the glass]. Let's make one thing clear: I’m not a god, I dislike religion, my flesh won't make you immortal, I cannot turn water into vodka and I will not bear your children or be interested in any kind of intimate activities unlike the majority of the local female population. Don’t give me that confused face, you have no idea how ridiculously stupid and narrow minded sealings can get, when they see me. Are we understanding each other?”

Okaay…She's been in this situation before. That's a plus 1 to the amount of questions boiling at the tip of my tongue. Yet I can’t squeeze a word from myself, only nod to which she faintly smiles and finishes her drink. Think Rick, think! 

“Did you bite your tongue or forgot how to talk?” Either by curiosity or teasing she’s gently pushing me to talk. I lower my head and shake it

“I have...so many questions..”

“What's the definition of insanity? What's the meaning of live? Why are we here? How to dominate hell with pancakes? How many re-releases of Skyrim was there before Half Life 3? How did human managed skip multiple milenia, learn the language and do some voodoo magic makeup to look young”

“A..actually the last -uh..yeah. The last pair of questions. Just...how?”

Something sparked in her eyes, her voice peaked deeper into curiosity as she stepped closer to me.

“I don’t open up my secrets on the first date to strangers.” 

I twist my face, processing

“...fair enough. [I take a pause to exhale and narrow down my circle of questions] Why did you kill your goons then?” It's her goons, no doubt about that. one of them called her ‘boss’. But how did she manage to rise in power?

“I keep my identity a secret and willing to kill if it means to maintain that secret.”

“So no one knows about the last woman on earth...[I interrupt her and giggle] You're a cruel woman. Feminist racists would be proud.”

We both shame a faint chuckle over a bad political joke before she continue

“Well, not exactly the last woman on earth if I’m being honest…”

“Wonder why...” 

And I wonder indeed. There’s something off about that lady, something that I’m missing. Can’t lay my finger on what exactly, but this whole situation with her seems very implausible without some deus ex machina type of deal. Cryostasis can explain surviving ~12 000 years, our healthcare, augmentations and implants can prolong life and adapt one to new environment...Nanomachines? Doubt they can do much aside from sustaining one’s health. Damn it, Richard, think…!

She made some sounds, trying to speak but stopped half way and shook her head. Most likely trying to come up with the right words.

“Pretty sure you got other questions to ask” Why would she try to change the subject? Is she hiding something or she doesn't want me to dwell on those thoughts? I have a bad feeling about this, but I’ll play long since I'm out of options anyway.

“Actually yeah. About the drinks and how did I get here…”

She faintly giggled and poured more drink into the glass then walked around the table and sat in her boss chair. Moments later she continued

“Blame your lack of awareness. Asking the hard drinks with drugs, ignoring the menu and warning? Seriously, what do you think this is, a normal bar? As for why you’re here? Guards find out that you’re octoling, tripping balls and mumbling something in ancient language.”

I look away in shame

“I see...Btw, it may sound like a wild guess, but how did you manage to get in..uh, how do I say this -- position of power? It's definitely your office, located at the top of the tower or somewhere in higher echelons, those goons called you ‘boss’ and I doubt a simple DJ would shoot someone like that. And there’s something off about you. Can’t appear in public, undercover work as a DJ in a place where people and info can be controlled, should the situation go out of control; pulling the strings from the shadows. It only leads to one logical conclusion - You’re the motherfucking Big Boss of this hell hole.”

She started to slowly slap with a sinister grin on her satisfied face.

“Mighty octarian mind in action. Yeah, I’m a fucking Big Boss and this is my outer heaven. How did I achieve this? It's simple, really: I’ve located the big nuts, crippled their operations and lured them out of their lairs. Then it was easy as the Powergirl Station - wink-wink: take out the competition, claim the power, manipulate everyone into thinking that their methods got them into this shitstorm, offer a proper solution that ultimately benefits your vision, take out the competition or bend them to your will by necessary means. Results - win-win situation for everyone: crime rate across the city and outskirts drowns, innocent people feel safer, life improves.”

Bold claim which lights up the mood a bit.

“Didn’t thought you’re an optimist”

“An optimist is when you sizing up the situation that's bloody impossible and say: ‘Yeah. Alright - I’ll have a go!’ Me? I’m a leader and opportunist, creating my own windows of opportunity and harnessing it, solving the problem with long-term benefits and profit for everyone. Good leader is the one who barely exists in the eyes of others, working behind the scene. When the work is done, aim fulfilled, people will say: ``we did it ourselves.”

“Not gonna lie: I find this hard to believe.”

“Perhaps you should drink some soda then. It’ll make you see faster, or so they say in the commercials. An abandoned area gets utilized as the center of shattered crime pulling itself back together as a publicly known location. Right fish get paid, territory officially declared as ‘no laws land’. Business runs without inconsistent obstacles, normals arrive here at their own will and risks. Half the risks and troubles to make a deal. And I’m the one pulling the strings, while working as a DJ...that's been my hobby for the past 50-60 years. Gangs, black market, Plaza, crime - everything leads to your truly”

“....sixty years is a half life for most people back in the day! Just how old are you, grandma in armored latex?! How much of a human is left in that heavily augmented body of yours? Can one even call you a human, or simplify it down to a typical business women, with behavior less human than a fucking robocop? Turned Plaza into a life breaking monument of everything that brought us to extinction...Unbelievable..”

“And apparently you have no ears if you fail to see the bigger picture. I did this city a service: concentrated all illegal activity in one abandoned part of the city and kept control to myself. I keep this city clean”

“By turning black eye on drugs, killings, rape, twisting innocent lives and raising younger generations with unrestricted access to things that can brake or corrupt them? A bunch of phoney justifications of your greed if you ask me!”

“Drugs and alcohol are no more addictive than food and air”

“Now you're just talking bullshit!”

“Am I now? Then, then prove me wrong and tell me, how long can one last without a meal? Without satisfying said addiction, one will feel weird, weak, start acting and thinking irrational, prioritising fulfillment of the painful urge that keeps compromising their abilities to function.”

I say nothing, processing her twisted logic.

“Now if we look at so-called starvation, what do we witness? Exactly same symptoms, there for life is addiction”

“Have you ever starved? It's not getting high and drunk so hard you can’t even remember your own name! You will literally die without food, water, air and rest.”  
To which she waved her hand, refusing to accept the obvious

“Excuses of the living.”

“Or someone’s logic needs a bit of manual formatting. Jesus non existing fuck me Crist, being the last of your kind really fucked you up…”

“Settle petal, angry octopus. In any case, the Internet does exist. It won’t stop kids from discovering things they’re not meant to see. Same with Plaza. I gave them something I haven’t had myself - freedom. No fish ever force them to come here without a reason. They know the danger and consequences....yet they still came. You can blame me all you want. In the end, you all aren’t worthy of the freedom you got. Want example: look in the mirror”

“Philosophical argues about free will, memes-”

“-isn’t your kink, so don’t give me that La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo crap. That's what you wanted to say, aren't’ you..?[rude interruption with tension rising] Free will is a privilege. Religion is a leverage. Memes, Rick. The DNA of the soul. It's our legacy that shapes our will, our culture...It's what we pass on. Expose someone to anger long enough, they will learn to hate. Envy, greed, capitalism, fascism...all memes. All past along despite eradication of mankind.”

I moan in frustration

“Oh, here we go again. What is human if modern ex sea life is no different from what we used to be in all meanings. Spare me the headache and tell me, how do you know my name?”  
“Ever asked yourself after coming to the surface like ‘What is human?’ or ‘What can be considered human?’ What if our idea and invision of the human race as something superior, standing above food chains was nothing but a naive pet of egoism on our shoulders? ….You did. Tell me then. Tell me how it feels to come up with an answer [She waits for my reply, but I fall silent. She’s right...] It’s a bitter realization, isn’t it? Mankind is dead. Humanity lives on. Cybernetics, augmentations and legislations of gene alteration. Transhumanism tore us apart, made us ask questions and fight in debates about humanity, decide what makes us human, how much flesh can one strip before becoming something less or more than a man. Flesh is weak, but metal is cold. Shall we strive for more or restrain science and progress? Sooner or later modern life forms will face the same questions.”

I distance myself from philosophy and ask coldly, persistently

“You big brain bitch-ling, answer my fucking question!.”

“I’m a dog, Rick. Sniffing out info is my specialty”

“I thought your legal middle name is ‘grofit above all else’. Hell, even the death of the world didn’t stop you for being a corporate smartass addicted to numbers in the wallet..”

She fell silent for a moment, looking dead serious. But then she add

“I had strings, but now I’m free. No memes, no morale, no humanity or irrelevant thoughts to cloud my decisions and steer me away from doing what's right [her mouth twists in disgust] Money, influence, power, pleasure, social status...I’m not here for material values everyone strives for.”

“Power corrupts. Your inhuman beliefs and ideas, cold calculations to gain power. You’re not a human, but a mad megalomaniac, that can’t be taken seriously. ”

She stands up and take a chair

“Eh...what are you doing?”  
“What does it look like? [She put the chair in front of me and sat on it, staring at me] I’m being serious. Want me to be serious? Fine. No more masquerade.”

“....”

“.....”

“...?”

Her face begins to melt and deform like a plastic, changing its color to green. She tries to say something, but her voice dies out, becoming more deformed and deep, almost robotic and artificial. My face freezes in cold sweat, as my wide open eye locked on and gazing at such a disturbing process, unable to look away for I’m still bonded to the chair; piecing together questions, her behavior, words and how it all felt wrong. And as she takes the form of an octoling, it finally clicks in me. The truth I probably knew deep inside, but refused to accept in favor of a false hope of the last woman on earth. She shifts into what she’s truly is - a sanitized FUCKING octoling! This explains a lot!. For fuck sake, I SHOULD'VE figure it out sooner! My entire body desperately struggles, emitting snuffed wheezing in horror from what I see…! Of course being helpless hostage AND witnessing a literal TARTAR’S DOG WITH ABILITY TO SHAPESHIFT INTO A HUMAN AND MIMIC EMOTIONS triggers my uncontrollable urge to panic, kill and scream which I’m actively resisting!

She slaps me with a hand, her voice echoing like a demand

“USELESS CREATURE, CALM DOWN!”

Surprisingly, it helps me to calm down and look at her...All tho I can’t help but feel stressed.  
“...He-he-heee~Oooo, isn’t this FUC-cking ironic?! A popular DJ, so called last woman on earth turns out to be U.A.C.U’s personal bI-i-I-i-I-ich~! Интересно а у тебя в очке живут медведи?” Dirty mocking and insults flies out of my mouth with broken, near shaking tone as I try to keep myself in check. 

“I’d agree with your look of horrified realisation if I had any feedling left. I’m not Professor Saimons or some crazy pup with no reason to exist, so lower your imaginary cum shooter, your hands are still tied. I'm a wolf among dogs, Rick. A master of myself. Remember that.” 

There’s nothing left: no emotions on her face or voice. Nothing but cold tired speech. I take a long sight

“You know my name?”

“I keep an eye on you ever since your experience in the city. Your CQ-80 was enough to figure out where you came from and get me the update on the news”

“State of the Project?”

She nods

“The Project Promised Land. Was it a good decision? The whole ‘end of the world’ deal seems like a well planned controversy for me. Does it deserve to be shit on creativity? Yeah, it does. Tartar created, sanitised me and ever since then I dedicated my existence to make his job a bit harder”

“All hail the vengeful vigilante, who’s no better than an android” Pompous notes in my sarcastic response. 

“Reality isn’t rainbows and far from typical smugs greedy rats in suits running the show with their wallets. And lest be real: organic life is nothing but machines of nature, proxies with brain acting as main CPU and the transmission relay for consciousness to pull the strings”

A distant voice cracked in the intercom on the table, distracting her

“Uh, Boss. Ghost of Justice has arrived and demand meeting ahead of schedule”

Ghost of Justice? Oh, this day just keeps on getting better! What kind of clown would name himself like that..assuming its a male in the first place. Altho it might be a cover up name to stay incognito, that's the black market after all. Our precious dog of all dogs exhale with a single disappointed ‘ah’ and slightly lowers her head

“Speaking of greedy idiots....”

She stood up and went back to the table, slid through it and activated the intercom.

“Like it or not he will wait till I’m done with my current guest. He’s in my world, not his world. And I got friends on the other side~” She literally signed the last two sentences and teleported back to me. Nothing surprises me anymore

I faintly smile with a bit of light up mood, asking

“Ghost of Justice?”

She sits back in chair

“One of my business partners, so no more questions about it. My business is out of your league to tackle.”

“Enlighten me, oh miss control!” [Why do I keep using such a pompous sly tone?] Seriously tho, I’m curious to know how it does -uh - ‘feel’ to be sanitised.”

She nodded a couple of times. Her back tentacle extends to the floor, making me stare at it nervously. It lifts up and stretches to the cabins, gently opens one of them and grabs a plastic canister from the cleaning agent with a letter on the paper: 'Facemelter' and delivers it to its master. I raise an eyebrow with obvious intention to ask ‘what’s this?’. 

“15 flavors of heavy drugs, pure spirit and gasoline. Fatal for any mortal [she takes a long sip, probably drinking half of it then tossing it away and violently shaking up her head] I’m not any mortal. Ooooh…Take a good look at me. I’ve been like ever since Tartar tossed me on the sanitisation conveyor to make a new animated doll with no hearth of their own. I've been like this for over eight hundred years and I haven't aged one day. Generations grew and died before my eyes, powers rose and tumbled down one after another. I’ve become what many humans and sealings would have dreamed of - an immortal. The things I’ve seen...The things I’ve done…”

She takes a short pause and continue

“And yet, there hasn’t been a day, an hour, minute I haven’t thought about death...I can accept the fact that nothing can end me, but this idea just keeps popping UP~ [her voice spiked for a moment, her sudden move scared me a bit] God damn, can I just be fucking normal?! I took what was stolen from me: my language, my culture, my memories and a name. Of course everyone was afraid of a soulless monster speaking in a language they don’t understand, but what could I do? Change my form, come up with believable names, legends and learn to act like a normal living thing. And when I need, my character dies or fades away, giving a way for a new character to take place. A perfect actor...[Sorrow in her voice…?]But the worst thing is not the shitty green look, or the jacking down the sanity, or constant absence of anything that makes you human, or being colorblind OR moral compass going SPASTICATED, or locals proving their stupidity EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. YEAR. It's that I  
JUST  
FEEL   
NOTHINGGgggg~!”

She walked around, acting all pissed off. In an outburst of frustration she kicked the chair and was exhausted. But then the glimpse of humanity died again as she put the chair back and sat on it with a cold face. I’m impressed and confused at the same time. This changed my view on her. She’s no ordinary Tartar’s puppet, no Traitors Hall or whatever those insane bastards call themself. She’s something else. 800 years, damn…

“So you’re a mimic [I conclude my thoughts in a rather calm tone. Curious case I ended up in...] Must be pretty hard to be a fish with many faces”

“Lack of humanity and strings makes it easier especially if you travel into different places, completely change your form, come up with a new backstory, name and the kind of work you want to do [she waved her hand] I’ve done it all! Saving lifes on the surgery table, digging my way through hordes of salmonids with a shovel, burned villages, got crucified and burned alive as ‘heretic’; ruled a kingdom, turned it into an empire, collapsed same empire, traveled around the sea and oceans to no man's lands..saw some real strange shit beyond any logic or rational explanation. I've mastered my abilities both natural and artificial, horned my skills and developed new ones. To mimic emotions and feels, to see colors in the gray reality without a thing that makes you human...The level of true mastery of acting. But enough of that, I got something to discuss”

She puts out CQ-80 and activates the map on the holo screen, placing it on the saw so I can see it. The place looks faintly familiar.

“The Ruthless peak - easternmost stronghold in the octarian Turf.” I inspect the map and moments later nod in confirmation

“Yeah, the place nobody wants to go in. Desolated pit in the middle of ancient ruins [I look back at F1sh] What's about it?”

“Around a year ago I sent some spies there just in case. Reports raise a lot of suspicion: octarians were digging tunnels and building railroads towards nowhere. Area is isolated from the world: mine fields, jammers and the only way to get in and out is by the train; communications through the secure channel only, soldiers are bound to the station and can’t leave without an official request from the security chief or CEO. ”

“That's some seriously overcomplicated security measures...”

“Hmh. So I started digging, used my connections and a reliable whistleblower. Apparently they diverse a large amount of resources, engineers, workforce and an entire sixth army division in that stronghold. Shipments go in, empty trains go out. Details about this whole operation are highly classified.”

“...Sounds fishy. Still not sure what does it have to do with me”

“To make it worse everything references it as ‘Asgard’, named in english not octario/octolish. The source is reliable, but I need more info to work with. And for that you gonna do a little digging for your old doggy”

“Th..? Oh no, grandma. I got nothing to do with your games!” I exclaimed in irritation. 

“I’m running short on octolings with military background and [she pointed at me] you want a job as a way to escape the unsettling reality into routine you’re used to. While your nameless octo counterpart has some unfinished business to attend to.”

“....don’t stick your tentacles into our business!” 

She stands up and smirks

“Your business? You’re mere fragments driven to the edge of madness, holding to the memories and each other to balance it out and stay above the pit. But by living in comfort you two seems to forget something: Madness is like gravity - all you need is a little push. Science harnessed both

She walked to the table. I quickly analyze the situation and giggle with a sick smile.

“What can you offer me for the job. Cure for madness, some kind of deus ex machina happy end?” 

She turned around

“Cyanite is the only cure for madness. Happy end? You already had it, yet you came here, driven by curiosity. Be sure it won’t drive you insane. Some answers are not worth it and believe me when I say it.”

“Then I’m out. Find someone else to use”

“You don’t want to see your old good friendly king DJ Octa-”

“D̨ON’T͡!̷ [I interrupt her with angry response, then continue to express my frustration in vocal form. Wish I count point at her or toss something right now] O̴çt͟av͟i͝o is͜ ̕t̛h͜e̷ l̴ast p͡erson ͟I ͠wa͡n̕t to̧ se͜e͏!”͠

“You will. You’re out of options anyway” 

“...An offer I cannot refuse?” 

I ask with my tone dying out. And she nodded. Fuuuck. I’m tied up, beaten, facing an immortal crime lord in control of the situation. to make it worse I’m in the heart of THE Inkopolis motherfucking Plaza and I’m an octoling. And here it comes, more thoughts and worries questions rise like mushrooms after rain. Does she know about Helena, Erin? Will she hurt them or use them as a leverage to force me to work? She could have killed me, yet she keeps me on the short leash. She wants me alive and cooperating. Fuck..fuck-fuck-fuck! Sigh, good job Rick. You really screwed yourself up into the corner. The only good decision here is to play along and improvise.

I break the silence with exhale full of defeat, asking in half tone

"...Aight. I’ll be your damn puppet digging dirt. What if he refuses to talk?"

"Start with the 'Black Night'. Mere mention of it will untie his tongue."

"Excuse me, what night?” 

"A little ‘opsie’ that led to the Great Turf War….” 

“Hold on a sec, wasn’t it started in the early morning by Octarian attacking like nazies in 1945?” I ask with confusion.

“That's what the history book says. In truth tho? It all started as a little prank made by an octarian prince and traveling boy. Two idiots, experimental mix of untested hypnosis music stolen from the lab, a town with speakers everywhere, prepared to play music during the splatfest night. What could possibly go wrong? Suffice to say the situation went out of control and lasted for over a day, till town ran out of power….I see it got you thinking. Spare yourself the struggle, only a selected few even know about it...Including Tartar. We both want each other defeated, he understood the consequences well enough and I needed the helping hand to clean the mess up and cover it up by a war between octarians and inklings.”

"..So YOU and Machine started the Great Turf War?!" Another great revelation. I feel haggard from all that bullshit coming in my way

"As a matter of fact, yes. One massive cover up to prevent larger scale conflict. Turn octolings into a race of scapegoats and let them be hated for being tyrannical assholes. Small price to avoid the chaos around the globe."

“You lost me here. How’s some hypnosis track can ignite world war?!”

“By being a weapon of genocide by pleasure and left some survivors to do the the rest. Imagine a town that drowned in sorrow and torment overnight. Streets full of dead bodies for a vast amount of reasons. People broken and traumatised beyond rehabilitation, driven to insanity after realising what they did to their loved ones, kids, elders, strangers..both alive and not so much; mourning the ones they’ve lost. Families broken, production stopped, infrastructure stagnated like a broken engine. I’ll spare you the details.”

She activated the intercom, asked for the cleaner and someone to escort me out of here. We looked at each other, I said nothing. She..

“You’ll be escorted out of Plaza safely. I don’t expect immediate results, but that doesn't mean you can ignore your task. When you are done, come here and contact me directly…”


	9. Part 8: Cyanide and Dreams

_ “Memories can be vile. Repulsive little brutes, like children I suppose. But can we live without them? Memories are what our reason is based upon. If we can't face them, we deny reason itself! Although, why not? We aren't contractually tied down to rationality. There is no sanity clause. So when you find yourself locked down in an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember: There's always madness. You can just step outside and close the door, and all those dreadful things that happened, you can lock them away. Madness... is an emergency exit." - Joker _

  
  


It hasn’t even been full 24 hours since that vile abomination released me with ‘best regards’ and somehow I’ve managed to set a whole bloody world against myself. Ugh, that talk with Lena wasn’t a good one. But where’s one why not the other.

"Orrrgh, for crying out loud Rick. Stop. Narrating. Yourself. Inside MY HEAD you cod damn provoking shitbird! [I...He..We are marching around the room in frustration, waving hands in the air. This is going in history as a bad day.] Oh, calm down already… - Calm down?! CALM DOWN!? Yeyeye suuuuure~! [He muttered that rapidly and benervously with giggles and continued with a broken yell] YOU couldn't live in satisfaction and enjoy the fruits of OUR accomplishments! Oh no, that's not 'da wae', that's not how humans do! You had to F-F-f-fUck everything up, didn't ya?!"

"Rick…?"

"FFFFFUUUUUUck him~ [I grab my frontal tentacles and pull them down with force just like I stretch my words. But then I let them go and put my hand on the chest, trying to reason] I admit, I regret coming to Plaza and I definitely don't like this 'job', but do you really have to throw tantrum? - Yes, yes I DO, you parasitic evolved hairless ass walking ape! Octavio and common sense stopped dating long ago - You used to prai - hmh, and I also used to live under the fucking iron curtain, a pair of brainwashing pilot glasses and untreated mental trauma caused by-! - Rear wheel drive dolphins, I know."

“Rick, I’m naked” Erin interrupts me with her typical behavior, sitting on her knees in her bed. Her hands reached for the sky as she was intentionally stretched up with the speed of the sloth animal, turning left and right to demonstrate all her beauty.    
  
_ “So what?!” _ ...And I turned and yelled at her, snapped at her. Emotions first, rational thinking later. Good job me, real fucking wise to yell at someone trying to help. I back off in shame. She keeps smiling, but I know her enough to see worry and concern and maim I delt hiding behind that cute face of hers.

_ “Erin, my dearest hyper positive squid with averagely lowered social responsibility and addiction to benefits. I’m having a bad day, throwing tantrums with everyone within sight including myself and top it all off - this idiot got us in the situation where I have to go and meet fish I treat similar to how you see your own mother. And you’re not helping!” _

And with that all her positivity and smile fades away with her hands slowly crumbling down and face expression pretty much giving up the awnser.

_ “...Oh.” _

Moments later she lays down on her belly and bends her leg as if she's posing for the camera

_ “Maybe you two can bury the roller of war and give me a massage then?” _

That innocent smile and friendly tunes in her voice were ruined by visible concern ready to bleed from her eyes. She really has a talent of making me feel like an asshole with burnùing grip of guilt and self destruction choking me from inside. Fine. Stress chats gonna turn me into a haggard mess. So be it. I walk over to the cupboard and grab a small glass can of extra spicy red looking ointment from there. Looks like a vile mixture of grinded pepper and jelly; warms the skin and it’s auroma will make eyes cry for mercy. I’d say this is some kind of hell medicine from Asia...maybe it is. Dip my hands in this stuff, walk to Erin, sit near her and do the work.

Hands traversing her body back and forth, tasting the joy of smooth skin and light tan, accompanied by the faint stench of perfume. Palms goin in circles, fingers squease and click here and there, knuckles roll down from her neck down her soft spine. No one teached me how to do it, nor did I try to learn it myself. I just do it, because she asked and I don’t mind to halt our little insult exchange. I know - I know. Everyone told me not to go, yet my curiosity let us here. At least she enjoys it, breathes softly and cutely. Aw, that faint blush on her cheeks. Damn you girl, killing two birds with one stone: free massage and stopping our argument. 

But seriously Rick, is it that necessary for you to know it all? Race for answers only led to no goods and I’m intoxicated by bumpy rides you send us on. To top it all off, let's not forget about that conversation you and Gre- ah, sorry - Helena had. Don’t even think of me as a masochist, but you deserved that beat down. You owe her an apology, you owe ME an apology…. Should’ve listened to others’s opinions but I doubt you’ll listen this time. 

_ “Can you do me a little favor?” _ Here goes nothing. 

Erin stretch her hands with lazy faint moan

_ “Not gonna fix your relations for ya, he-he” _ She slightly turns her head to me and giggles with a blush. I roll my eyes and nag

“Thanks, agent obvious. I wanted to help with..[sigh] Getting to DJ Octavio. Where’s he and how can I get near him for...unfriendly chat.”

_ “You really gonna go through this? [She shakes her head and stretches again, returning her typically positive tone] Well, I’ll take you with me next time I’m gonna visit him. You know, provision delivery. But for now~” _

She winks and I gaze her in the eyes letting her know that I’m not in a mood for her debauchery. Even faked child offended face expressions and puppy eyes can’t fail to convince me to change my answer.

***Around a day later***

Not even once I even imagined using my octo form to sail into the rivers of literal shit. And to make it more memorable Erin acted as an enthusiastic guide on the tourist tour of ‘dirty roads’ as she called it; bragging and making jokes. Using sewers to save fast traver. Fucking. Sewers. Next thing that surprised me was the utility room with the mesh pipe leading to the surface. This room has been expanded and turned into a makeshift dressing place with a shower, which after such a ride felt like a blessing. And thank the biology god or whatever responsible for protecting our clothes for getting dirty while we use our squid/octo forms. That unexplainable trait of our bodies just saved me some dignity. As for Erin, and I can tell by just looking at her - she’s well acquainted and used to doing such travels. After all is an agent and working in - for the lack of better word - publicly known black ops unit. Whenever shit goes down news just has to mention Agent 1 and 2. Or maybe they maintain this myth of anonymous vigilantes. Squid Sisters and their ego..

Exiting the pipe via squid/octo form and we’ve reached our destination...or so she says, making her way to the blast door with a code panel. While she’s at it, I look around: an old abandoned shack on the right. Erin tells me this is where legendary Captain Cuttlefish used to live, tired of the cities and spending his retirement days watching over his arch adversary, who we’re gonna meet. . Not anymore...Straight in the middle are two metal sticks with sticks with a warning yellow tape and it’s tips dangling on the wind; making the cliff. I step close to it and the sorrow outskirts of Octo Canyon appear below. Just look at all the vast territory, floating structures, bunker entrances, desolated outposts and domes. Seems like a field after the battle, but in reality it's just a result of Helena/Erin’s activity multiplied and expanded by poor economy and government. And we’re going to the source, the reason behind the suffering of many octolings, dumbo octopuses and other sealings..with a bag of food, water and questions. Sigh. Metal creak forcefully stretching its roar behind me indicates that the way is open. Frontal tentacle gets a hold on a flashlight and we begin to descend on the stair into the dust and darkness. 

Walking through dusty corridors, illuminated by the moonlight peeking through cracked windows. No electricity, no water Old empty prison with one old inmate left to do his time in a holy paradise for sociopaths - absolute silence, disturbed by our marching feet and occasional coughs from all the dust filling the air from our presence. Whoever shoved him here has to be a creative sadist. A torment by isolation and loneliness? A fate worse than death...fits our monster just fine. To make our trip less grim I turn in some old music we both can relate to:

_ I do not feel like myself, I think I might be something else,  _

_ And I don’t think I can tell if I am dreaming  _

_ My mind is packed and leaving, I’m barely breathing  _

_ Did I always have the potential I’m revealing  _

_ I have become something new, or am I turning into you  _

_ And will I even make it through this delusion  _

_ Or is this evolution my new solution  _

_ Losing sight of what I once was, it might get gruesome _

_ I feel like I’m ten feet tall, and nothing frightens me at all  _

_ Ready to fight and tonight I’m out of control  _

_ I’m finally done concealing I’m feeling like an animal _

(The Living Tombstone - Animal)

  
  


I turn off the song as we approach a dustless metal door, surrounded by empty bottles, cans and full garbage bags. Er takes her backpack, sits and proceeds to unpack it; briefly pointing at the door

"Here’s there. Have fun chatting”

I look at her

“And you?”

“I’m gonna clean up a bit, then set up the camping stove for cooking. You go ahead”

I reach the handle, but just before opening the door, I turn my head to Erin with a faint smile

“I owe you one”

“Hope you're not gonna kill him” S

She finally chuckled, without a moment of distraction from unpacking all the stuff she carried. But this ain't no pun for me. I turn the handle and with the words ‘You and me both…’ enter the lair of the motherfucking nazi. Rick, untill we leave this room, I’m doing the talk.

Pink and sickly overgrown octopus trapped in a box, made from heavily armored glass, illuminated by the holes in the ceiling, seemingly made by someone for a reason...maybe enough to squeeze a package with snags. And here it is - our ‘hero’ of the united lands; once a rebel prince and inventor. Now? You don’t want to know. Almost one hundred and thirty damned years and now he’s rotting behind the glass. Heh, bet that's not how he saw his retirement plan. He barely turns in my direction, then suddenly turns more with a mixed reaction in his eyes, switching his full attention to me. He looked at me with disbelief, surprise even; but those quickly went missing under the grim look of disappointment as he hums.

_ “...you?” _

I sigh and cross arms. N̡o ͝m̸ore m͟as̡k̡s, no͡ ͘moŗe p͠r҉e͝t̨en̢ding͠.͠.no ͘m͟ore ͞bul͏l̶shit.̧ T͏im͡e͜ ̵to̡ ͘be me͠

_ “...surprised I’m still alive, father?”  _ Asshohe spilled with unwelcoming tone in his voice

_ “No. I’m surprised to see you siding up with inkling scum  _ [He spewed out with disgust and disappointment. After a short pause he added ] _ Why are you here?" _

_ “If I were a responsible adult with no childhood and shattered world view I'd say I came to kill you. Lucky for you I'm an irresponsible piece of sea plankton full of questions, satisfaction and parasitic puppeteer playing victim. Certain someone told me that there's something fishy going on since you've been doing actual work which isn't your redeeming quality if I'm being politely honest [Asshole stops, gazing at Octavio. He grabs the chair near the cage and blows some dust from it] It's been a weird vibe lately... _ . _ No iron curtain, different perspective, answers, connections I never asked for, a sinister cloud of looming uncertainty. Being brought to live among ‘the enemy’ changed my view on things. Starting with you…”  _

No words came in reply. Only silent grunts of an old man, sick of seeing his ‘progeny’ betraying him. Maybe he’s just sick of having a company or listening to criticism. Hell, I’d shoot myself for sure if I was stuck behind bars with no escape and forced to listen annyong brainwashing speeches from stereotypical boss, wife or mother-in-law….especially mother-in-law! But that's just me and Asshole taking the seat and continuing to spill out his thoughts. Oh, the levels of shit this overgrown octopus is about to hear...

_ “Lets face it: our entire infrastructure, our culture, our morals, our future are infected by the disease with long term consequences. Its called ‘Ruller is a fucking idiot’. Yep…” _

Silent look of suppressed hate shined in Octavio’s eyes. Asshole only smirked, adding more fuel to the fire:

_ “Our turf wheezers, choked up with fanatics, savage loyalists, brainwashed plebs. Whatever you’d call it, it's a goddamn epidemic” _

_ “Inkling scum ruined everything…! Them and that old crag! Especially after the Green Terror showed up! _ ” He roared like a scary engine, I grin in frustration from the insult, interrupting him:

_ “And she did something about it! Somebody had to! Your goddamn shenanigans  _ **_ARE_ ** _ dangerous [A short pause occurred to slightly cool down and return to insulting strategy] With age comes wisdom or so they say, judging by your unchangeable course of actions.” _

Octavio laughed in ignorance

_ “You’re no one to judge me. Just a soldier-” _

Asshole interrupts him again with cold toned disgust.

_ “Elite solder with experience in assassinations, expertise in maintenance and repair of electrical systems. I can power up the entire Octo Canyon without hiring or stealing a single zapfish. Name someone else, who can pull that off? [short pause of intimidation] Yeeaaah, that's what I thought....You don’t mess with the best, and my now dead comrades can tell you I'M the best.” _

Octavio gazed at me and shook his head. I don’t want to listen to them biting each other’s throats like meth addicted politics. We agreed that he’ll be talking, getting that damn info so that undead bitch would kindly go to hell and leave me alone. And yet they keep acting like two alpha monkeys looked in one cage

_ “Oh, I remember well thank you for asking! ‘The goal always justifies the means’. I hope you don’t mind if I rephrase that into the goal justifies MY ASS! And it isn’t justified for well known reasons!” _

_ “Phah! So you shift blame on me for being a faint filled pussy?!” _

_ “No-no-no [Asshole extends right arm with one finger lifted and swinging like a pendulum. Here comes sassy sarcasm] How can I blame such noble twat for sending A WHOLE FUCKING generation to the bunkers, undeground cities and shiiter life because - drammatic drumm pause [and he litteraly beat the imaginary drumms with his hands...oh god, he’s no better than a phyco now. And then his bullshit stops as he stares at Octavio with death glare and says] your boyfriend! Like seriously?! Love is your excuse to mix everything with garbage?! [he growled irritably and made a jumpy 180 turn] Call me a homophob but this is exactly fucking why rule with your BRAIN. NOT. WITH YOUR GENITALS! [100% agree here even though I wouldn't scream at him so loud with all this pointing and intimidating walking you just did. Arg,h who am I talking to anyway, you’re too caught up in this shit to hear me.] And then you got so caught up in revenge you dragged us all into your petty ‘opsie’!” _

_ “H..how did you….?!” _

_ “I’m an asshole, dad! I have manners!” _

_ “.Rgh, You’re mentally sick, unstable. Go lock yourself in mad house or something” _

_ “Я не сошел с ума [Asshole spoke with bits of sadness and paused, shaking his head with arms crossing on the chest. Why are you talking in a language he won’t understand?] ….Ты многое не знаешь. Ah, You know what. Here's a joke instead: if the lives of countless children are screwed over by the government's doctrine, does this make the current ruler a pedofile?” _ And the sinister smile reignites an ocean of hate in Octavio's eyes. He punched the glass with two tentacles and moved closer to the glass with irritation and anger brewing in his voice

_ “You, disrespectful, creeping scum... I’m your king, your father!” _

Asshole pointed at him, semi-closing eyes to look more intimidating

_ “I beg to differ. See, you never were MY father. And I’m not the little obedient U35 you once ‘knew’. I’m no more than a doppler of myself. I’m one [he pointed at his head] but there are many.” _

Nothing but senile grunts and growl came in return. Asshole sight

_ “I’ve seen your methods, your tactics and policy. Suffice to say it always fascinated me just how ruthless and inefficient you are. Not saying that I’d be any better, but cod mark my words - some decitions of yours is questinable at best: sending girls on the front lines while guys are getting promoted into higher ranks one after another; wasting resources and those fucking zapfishes on ‘Great’ Octo Weapons, brainwashing people to prevent riots and discontent. Why? Why is it so hard to stick with making your turf and sealings life better, reinforcing the economy to make sure we can afford this grand plan of vengeance? Shell, you could’ve just gone with Black Night vol. 2 - brainwash entire Inkopolis into rabbits and see it collapsing in a day or two of animal drive pushing those poor souls to the grave! Heh...even a fucking mad fish like your tully managed to came up with better plan in a minute when you coudn’t do it in your ~120 years of rule." _

Calm and constructive criticism seems to screw his rotten ego. He is getting angrier and more frustrated; and Asshole keeps on getting more salty, spilling the truth as easily as one plays guitar. I can feel how he’s bathing in joy, starting at the one who oppressed him for years with an evil sadistic smile, hiding frustration and sorrow, as it gets more bitter and spicy with all those unwanted memories rolling back. Pain pulsing in the head, forcing his nose to bleed.

_ “….Oh, I almost forgot about all those adopted kids you got, how kind of you. Then why were there no girls among us - your beloved children of a great DJ Octavio? Why did we never get our names? Many treated us like...trrgh, something below trash. You promised us protection and a brighter future, but you gave us numbers and abuse. Thinking about this makes me sick.” _

He punched the glass even harder with an angry roar, but it sounded pale, muffed by the glass too strong to fall under his rage.

_ “If you won’t shut up, I’ll break this pathetic prison and remix your face with my bare tentacles and remind you to respect your elders!” _

But Asshole laughed it off, holding belly and bending knees and back, speaking with pure sarcasm, roasting him.

_ “Oh no, not the tentacles, Senpai! I’m SO afraid of angry old octopuses! PLS don’t punish me. Ha! [ he dropped the act, getting back on the chair] Is that supposed to be a thread? You don’t even have an eight ball to make this remotely spooky. Wanna get out? Welp, good luck with that [ he shrugged, smirking at the sight of powerless aggression coming from the other side of the glass] After all, you already won.” _

Octavio stopped, raising one of his eyebrows. My hands went up to play with my own tentacles while Asshole keep talking

_ “What are talking about, peasant?” _

I bit my lip and shoe frontal tentacles away, gazing at Octavio’s angry pinkish body gazing back with disgust. I lower the tone and slowly walk closer to his ‘cage’.

_ "Don’t play dummy with me, you dombo. Dead, alive or rotting behind glass, your legacy and ideology keep doing their dirty work. There are idiots believing in your teachings, your ideas; army of loyalists. Should I be an idiot and kill you, that'll only benefit those assholes. A great ruler captured and slain by a traitor, the enemy defector supporting the Green Terror herself. Nice excuse to push your agenda and feel good about it, innit? Too bad you're stuck is isolation till your ink sac run dry" _

Tension is rising like pressure in the gages, Asshole added

_ “Humans used to say ‘Omae wa mou shindeiru’ which means ‘you are already dead’. Fits you like a glove.” _

Suddenly I twiched, control felt back in my hands even if this is just temporary. I shake my head, wipe off blood from the nose and put a bloody hand against the glass.

_ “But enough of salting out wounds [ _ My voice gets darker, shaky as I clench my blooded hand into a shaking first and point it at giant octo with disrespect. Asshole’s words, his tone spilled out my mouth, mixing with mine] _ I’m here to play minecraft and you’re my bunch of rocks full of info. Get the hint? Play the good old king and tell me what I want, then I’ll leave. I hate you, you’d killed me given the chance so you can make our both lives easier” _

Octavio looks surprised, observing me as if I’m a lab rat trapped in a cage. Then he chucked with ignorance on his face, crossing two tentacles like he’d crossed arms

_ “Miserable wretch. Looking at your pathetic existence is sickening. Fine. Ask.” _

I ignore that insult with a faint smile and burst of satisfaction. Finally making progress! Or so I want to think. Asshole keeps the pace, asking questions both useful and not. Octavio behaves, uh... fishy so to say. He knows nothing about what DeadF1sh wants to know. Not surprising, considering he’s been here for quite some time. Still, something seems off here. What if he’s lying or hiding information because he hates me for my ‘defection’? I’m getting tired of that overgrown pink narcissistic nazi, he might feel the same way. Why can’t we just leave him and go back? Is this your way to punish me for my poor choices? Sigh..

Clocks tell that half an hour has passed and got zero results. Not a single bit of into worth all the trouble getting here and listening to your family scandal. I͞ thin̛k̴ ҉we'r̨e͢ don̛e h̕ere. And so without any more words to share I get up and go to the exit door without saying goodbye.

“Go on then, leave back to your ‘new’ life among the hypocritic slippers of society! ...you and your agent friends can all go to the bottom” 

I stop near the door with my hand already grabbing the handle. Aashole, don’t! Just leave this old sad fish -Nah Rick. You may be soft, but the only one who have promotion to insult your girl is ME! This is personal. He’s provoking you, idiot! Oh god, here we go again…Turning around and aggressively going back to the Octavio, pointing at him __   
  


_ “Watch your mouth, you Insignificant speck of frequent scum! Hele -rrgh, Green Terror might not be an angel and I’m not gonna defend her atrocities against our kind, but she does have something you lack: a sense of conscience and guilt” _

He bursts into laughter and I grind my teeth in disgust. He asks

_ “I’m not talking about your poor squid, you brainwashed idiot!” _

_ “Wha-?” _

He leaned closer to me, eyes filled with vexing joy , drilling my soul

_ “Oh, you don’t even know the half of shit going with this so called ‘new squid beak splatoon” _

“How do they bitching around and do nothing?”

“....” I sigh, having a bad feeling about the way he smiles

“There’s more, isn’t it?”

“ _ Ever wondered where we get all this tech and resources for our superior weaponry?” _

_ “You could be lying. What makes you think I’ll believe you? Where’s your proof on whatever you got to say?” _

_ “Ask DeadF1sh in Inkopolis Plaza” _

I only raised an eyebrow

_ “You know that whore?” _

_ “I knew a wagon of whores, but this one is on a whole different level, chasing shadows, breaking bones and twisting nature’s limbs.” _

“Yea, she has a pretty suicidal agenda. Alright...Go on”

“This whole revenge doctrine became pointless direction of propaganda after I made a deal with a certain powerful benefactor. Tech for life stock. They need octolings for...whatever reasons and I get some fancy technology.”

“W-wait-wait-wait! What did you just said?”

_ “I’ve made a deal with a superior force. And that's not all. Demand keeps going up, supply - not so much. Yea, I bribed them alright. Agents stay out of my affairs and send their little pet pawn where I need, cause chaos and death. Survivors are send to-” _

His words start to blur away as I lose connection with reality. It all comes together; I stumble back but hit the chair and fall on the ground, morphing into the octo form. Conspirence unraveled before me, all pieces of the puzzles and answers coming together.

_ “..They helped us build our future for a small, pitty price…” _

Does that mean he sold our people…?

_ “...had to act quietly, make it look like a desertion or abduction…” _

..Send them to die, to suffer, to forget and be used…No...no-no-no… 

_ “...parasitic failure...enjoy your pathetic life with those inkling scums.” _

I hear loud, frenzy laugh, turning into scream and getting louder; echoing from inside, snapping me like a broken glass. I am drowning in emotions, barely breathing, choking as if I’m drowning for real. My hand points at him, my lips shake, whispering with a broken voice, as I struggle to retain control and stand still.

“Ww-hy? Why would you...”

But Octavio just smirked like a sadist and kept talking. I couldn’t hear a word tho. I can barely hear myself...ourselves! I...I’m shocked, paralyzed with pure shook, connecting the dots. Asshole...your own father….He sold you. He raised me just to sell me to the machine. Tartar. Who else? My eye is twitching, limbs and lips shaking, and my head's getting heavy. And he kept on speaking, mocking, laughing, explaining. White noise blends in with memories and flashbacks, Something is dying inside with every twist of his mouth, every move of his old yellow eyes....

All the cases of missing octolings. Henela’s attacks on our facilities and outposts. All this propaganda and provocation. Even that day I - I was meant to be captured like the rest! They send me there to die! To be erased, replaced by YOU! Sad. So sad. To see...everything I know...being a lie..ha..ha. Everything he told me, everything I used to believe in was just a lie. Body shifts back to the human form, I get up, grinding the teeth, feeling burn in the chest. Anger, hatred, drowning in the urge to kill.

“Why. Would. YOU do that….?!”

Octavio seems to enjoy seeing me being torn a-a-apart! But he talks….oh, the way he talks!

_ “Because you’re expandable! Progress demands sacrifice, breaking things and lifes! [his tone gets serious, judging] This is what progress looks like. Be in control long enough and you’ll see...after a while you’ll start measuring it by the size of a pile of destruction around ya. You're gonna break it up to build it back up. It’s the only way, you’ll see. And there is so much to break before you can build again.” _

_ “How many innocent lives did you s-sold into literal hell just get your dirty tentacles on some floating platform, huh? What makes you think the price is worth it, huh?!” _

_ “I’ll spare you the amount of times I’ve told myself similar bullshit. The reason justified” _

_ “….E-everyone thinks they’re the hero of their own story. Hah...I should’ve seen this coming - ever since my birth I was backstabbed by everyone I gave a rat’s ass about: My boss. Machine. Hell..my goddamn foster father. Maybe I deserve it..” _

And with that all emotions died out like a spark escaping fire as his last words echoed in my mind. I’m drained, I’m done. I don’t want to breathe, I don’t want to stand, I don’t want to look or smell because I feel nothing. Everything looks so... irrelevant, aimless. Why go back? Why explain the tears? Why keep living? No one will care about my death if I don’t prove to them that I lived. Now that, does make sense

Last words leave the sore dry throat with a hollow half tone as he gets up.

_ “I’ve been dead for 25 years. Today is the day I live” _

And he rushed towards Octavio, who’s been watching this poor soul going insane. He slightly jumped back from surprise, but moments later smiled as he was protected by the glass, upon which octoling’s hands smashed with fury hands and started to slide down. Driven to madness, betrayed and broken there one final desire moved his fading body, smashing the glass with his forehead, then again and again, leaving blood and tears traveling down his devastated, emotionally mutilated red face. He cried in desperation, he screamed in agonizing pain burning from the inside; he felt weaker with each passing moment...

And yet he kept on going, throwing himself against the unbreakable wall of glass…until he could not. With one last head bush he froze in place like a statue. He was exhausted, drained dry. Emotions, reasons, a will to life...all burned out like a fuel fumes that kept the machine going on its last adventure. There was nothing left on his bloodied face...nothing but lifeless expression of a sanitised octoling engraved on his face with cold hollow eyes cursed to silently stare at his foster father. For the second time in his long life the old tyrant was speechless, memorizing the moment that will haunt him for the short remaining of his life. 

Mark the end of Act 3.

***???***

Light shined through windows, another restless night for DeadF1sh and mountains of work to do. Organizing domesticated crime is no joke, yet it was an aimless routine for her. Phone rang with loud noises and she answered the call on autopilot. But no one spoke and the noise persisted. She snapped from her half slumbering mode, noticing the source of the disturbance - wired red hotline phone straight from the cold war design era; but with no means to dial the number nor it was connected or powered up. She picked up the phone handle, but hesitated to answer the call. Moments later she lifted the handle to her face and in an instance her office room ceased to exist before her very eyes. She was sitting at the negotiating table in the middle of nothing, still holding the handle of that herodic object, which innocently sat at the table. This...device usually serves as the communication bridge between the dead and the living, but this time there were no clients sitting on the other side like she did. Instead the inhuman crime lord witnessed a glimpse; the translucent shadow of a human figure with its back turned to her. They were sitting at the completely different table and writing on a typewriter like possessed, voicing the words colder than her skin...as the dead came to have little friendly chat.

_ ‘I’ve written and rewritten. Deconstructed. Reconstructed. Experimented with different voices. Changed the worlds. Changed myself. Forgotten the language, relearned the language. The only way to make progress - recap and write more. Cut through the reality. Tear it apart and rewrite. Lose the fat. Make him clear, ugly, functional, present. Morth flaws into tools. Be blunt, show him the way, let him do the job…..’ _

She didn’t listen to the end of such cryptic monolog and hung up the phone, forcefully spewing herself back into the real world. For a couple of moments only air exited her mouth trying to speak. She whispered her curses and shook her head while the phone slid out of her shaking hand and hit the ground; after which she leaned her back against the chair and used her tentacle to fetch a normal phone. She had to spread the word around

Collapsing dusty halls of Camabo underground lighted up like a christmas tree, a spark of life reaching old mechanisms and conveyors with louder creaks breaking the stagnating flow. Dark corridors soaked through with blood, madness and misery fall silent. Never before machine was excited like now, making all necessary preparations to have the last laugh.

Usually only sounds of party and ignorance were heard outside the Board's doors. But it wasn’t the time for sillines and corruption - an emergency meeting was underway and it was hell hot in there. Insults, threads and questions flew like splat bombs across the battlefield; piles of used cigarettes kept growing like cancer, smoke and confusion covered the room like a dome, isolating the old dumb fools from any ratinality and each other. Without Octavio power struggle was inevitable, ‘Asgard’ was under threat of cancellation and the message they got divided them even more. Some view this whole situation as conspiracy, an attempt to seize power. Suffice to say it was a miracle that they didn’t shot each other down there

Author's PS:

So many questions and so little answers. Well, a good story should have an unsolved mystery or two. Is this the end of the story? Certain people know the answer, probably giggling in anticipation. But there’ll be time for that as for now I leave you till I finish….the  _ Kingdom of Leftovers.  _ Stay tuned

_...You must know where you’ve been to know where you’re going…. _


End file.
